The Other Side
by Meltha
Summary: Buffy jumped through the portal and died.  But what happened to her next? Chapter twenty-one added and now COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

Rating:  PG, though not much objectionable actually happens

Feedback:  Thank you kindly Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  For "The Gift"

Distribution: Here.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  Buffy jumped through the big old portal and died. This is my take on what happens to her next.

Author's Note:  I started writing this over the summer… and quite honestly, I still am writing it.  Consequently, some of this doesn't quite mesh with what Joss told us happened.  

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Dedication:  To my poor, put-upon group of readers who have been waiting so dang long for me to get off my duff and finish this.

The Other Side

Part 1

Oddly enough, Buffy thought of when she was twelve years old and had gone scuba diving in the Caribbean with her father on a family vacation.  The sense of weightlessness, the odd blurring of sound, the rippling of images, and the strange hyper-awareness of each movement made her remember that experience vividly.  

Yes, dying seemed to be a lot like scuba diving, except, of course, for the blinding white light, the electric shocks traveling through her body, and the complete absence of any cute little fishies.  In addition to those insignificant differences, what she'd thought was mind-numbing fear at age twelve was nothing compared to how scared she was right now.  

For a split second that seemed to hold an eternity, the slayer saw the ground rushing towards her as the portal closed and she fell towards the earth.  Bracing herself, she prepared for the inevitable bone shattering impact, but it never came.  Instead, she suddenly found herself outside of her body, watching it land with a dull thud some twenty feet beneath her.  Almost immediately, the surrounding landscape of Sunnydale drifted away like fog in the morning sunlight and she found herself in the middle of a very large expanse of swirling violet mist.  Her feet appeared to be on something solid, but looking down she saw nothing but more of the same eddying light purple vapor.

"Um, hello?  Anybody here?" she called in alarm.  Shouldn't she be seeing a white light or a tunnel or something by now?  "Anybody?"

"Not a bad exit," commented an instantly recognizable accent behind her.  "I always did tink you'd last longer dan I did."

Whirling around, Buffy was so relieved she almost felt like laughing. "Kendra!"

"Who were you expecting?  De Easter Bunny?" the girl replied casually.

Now Buffy really did laugh.  "Only if I was Anya and thought I'd ended up in hell."

"Yes, I can imagine dat perfectly.  I've never quite understood her ting about rabbits."

"You-you know Anya?  But how?  By the time she came around you were…" she stopped abruptly, not wanting to sound rude.

"Dead?  It's all right to say dat here.  After all, you're dead too, now," she paused for a moment.  "Well, mostly.  But to answer your question, I keep an eye on how tings are going down der. You've done quite a job."

It was at this point that Buffy realized something very strange.  Although she could hear Kendra perfectly well, she had yet to see her.

"Uh, where are you?" Buffy asked with a small note of nervousness in her voice.  She'd only been dead once before, and it hadn't been for long, so this was all very new to her.  

"Well, der seems to be a little problem.  Notting to worry about.  It's just dat you're still somehow connected to de oder side, de world of de living."

"So I'm not completely dead yet?" she asked in confusion.

"No, you're dead.  Der's no question aboot dat.  But der's someting a little strange going on.  I'm not too clear on details, but I was sent to make you feel more comfortable here.  But, because of de circumstances, since I'm completely on de oder side of the boundary of life and death, and you're not, you can't see me.  At least, not yet."

"So, basically, I'm stuck in the waiting room of the Great Beyond?"

There was an amused silence for a moment.  "Dat's about de size of it.  But around here, we call it Limbo."

"I guess seeing my mom is kind of a big no then too, huh?" Buffy said in disappointment.

"I am sorry, Buffy, but no, she cannot come to you just now," was Kendra's gentle reply.  "But she does send you her love.  She is very proud of you."

"Is there anybody here that I know?  I mean, it's really nice talking to you again, but I'd kind of like to be able to see somebody, if you know what I mean.  All this whirling purple stuff is making me crave Dramamine."

"I can't stay for very much longer meself, but yes, der are oders here.  We didn't want to startle you by having dem be de first ones to greet you, but now dat you know der is notting here dat will harm you, dey will come forward.  I am glad dat I had de chance to know you as a friend, even if it was for a short time.  Maybe we will be able to speak again soon.  Goodbye, Buffy."

The silence that followed the statement made Buffy feel even more alone than before for a few moments.  However, as she was just beginning to wonder if Kendra had known what she was talking about when she mentioned others, a change began to come over her surroundings.  As she watched, the mist began to twist itself into solid shapes and take on breathtakingly beautiful colors. Grey-green hills started to form in the distance, followed by a vast expanse of emerald, grassy fields dotted with colorful wildflowers and tall, graceful trees in full leaf.  The sky appeared overhead, the startlingly clear blue almost a shock, and cotton candy clouds of snowy white drifted lazily in a warm breeze.  As though in an afterthought, a river of sparkling, clear water began to run across the meadow before her, tumbling over rocks and making a cheerful burbling song.  A narrow stone footbridge suddenly sprang up across it, linking one half of the field to the other.

"Well, at least Limbo is pretty," she said aloud.  

Suddenly, the Slayer became aware of three indistinct figures approaching her across the grasslands.  They were too distant to perceive clearly, but she noticed that they appeared to be human.  As they came closer, she was able to tell that there were two women and one man.  The women wore long, pastel dresses that seemed to float in the gentle breeze and changed colors from moment to moment, while the man, who walked between the other two, offering an arm to each, wore an old-fashioned suit of pale gray.  Although she was able to see their clothing fairly well, their faces remained oddly blurred.  When they reached the bridge, they stopped for a moment and appeared to have a brief conference.  Despite her intense curiosity, Buffy was unable to hear what they were saying.


	2. Chapter 2

Rating:  PG, just to be on the safe side, I guess

Feedback:  Thank you kindly (Melpomenethalia@aol.com)

Spoilers:  For "The Gift"

Distribution: Here.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  Buffy's journey into the other side continues.

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Part 2

Finally, one of the two women crossed the bridge, while the other woman and the man remained on the opposite shore, apparently watching Buffy with keen interest.  The woman continued towards her, and the Slayer noticed that the slight figure was remarkably graceful and seemed to radiate waves of tranquility.  It wasn't until she was a mere eight feet away that Buffy realized the other woman seemed to drift in and out of focus, almost as though she were standing on the opposite side of a glass panel with water cascading down it.  Her face was still completely obscured.

"Hi?" Buffy called out uncertainly. Even with all the bizarre occurrences of her life, this was still a bit out of her league.

The figure raised her hand in greeting.  

"Can you speak?"  she asked.  

The figure nodded her head.

"Well, then, why don't you?" she asked again, starting to get a little annoyed.

The woman turned her head back toward the bridge as though looking for reassurance, and the other two figures nodded to her encouragingly.  

"Please, don't be frightened," spoke yet another instantly recognizable voice as the figure abruptly snapped into focus.

Buffy let out an audible gasp, then automatically dropped into a fighting stance.  "What are you doing here, Drusilla?"

"I have no wish to harm you, Buffy.  I'm not the Drusilla you know."

Like a light bulb switching on, Buffy suddenly realized the truth.  "You're her soul, aren't you?"

The girl in front of her laughed a deliciously joyous peal of chuckles as she nodded.  "You've gotten it at once!  As you've more than likely figured out, I wasn't evil at all in life, and the insanity cleared up as soon as I reached here."

"And the other two?"

"They sent me ahead because I've been here the longest, so I've had a little more experience at putting newcomers at ease.  Come along, fraidy cats!" she called over her shoulder, her Cockney accent producing a surprisingly homey effect instead of the bone-chilling one Buffy was used to.  "It's quite alright now!"

The other two figures crossed the bridge, but it still took Buffy a moment to recognize them, which wasn't surprising considering one was someone she hadn't known for very long and the other looked almost nothing like his current self.  Slapping her hand to her forehead in disbelief, she suddenly realized that they were none other than Darla and Spike.

"This is so not the welcome wagon I expected," the Slayer said and she stared slack-jawed at the new arrivals.  "Wait a minute.  Darla's been dead a lot longer than Drusilla, so how can Dru have been here the longest?"

"That's actually a pretty interesting story," the other blonde said in a slightly embarrassed voice.  "I've died twice, and the first time the accommodations weren't quite so…," she paused significantly, "picturesque, shall we say?"

"Twice?"  Buffy asked with curiosity.  

"I got called back.  It happens occasionally.  Not very often, but this time it worked out a little better for me, thanks to Angel," she answered with a wistful smile.  "He really is quite something."

Sensing that Darla had hit a nerve since Buffy's eyes had narrowed and assumed a less than friendly glint at the other woman's obvious affection for her former love, the only male present decided a quick change of topic might be in order.

"So, is everything quite to your liking here, then?" he asked softly.

"Aside from the fact I'm dead, stuck in Limbo, and extremely confused, everything is ginger peachy, Spike," the Slayer deadpanned.

"I would appreciate it if you would call me William," he requested gently. "I was never in the habit of, ehm, impaling people with railroading supplies.  But the confusion, well, perhaps we might be able to clear some of that up.  What's troubling you?"

"Sorry, William," she said, trying to adjust to the brown-haired version of her semi-ally.  He seemed so… nice.  It was almost disturbing.  "I guess the big question is, why am I here?"

"You're dead," Darla answered matter-of-factly.  

"That part I got, what with the swirling portal and the no longer breathing and the lack of heartbeat," she responded, slightly annoyed with the other woman's blasé attitude.  "I'm not completely stupid.  What I don't get is why Kendra said I haven't completely crossed over yet.  What am I doing in Limbo instead of, you know, the real deal?"

"That is a bit difficult to explain," Drusilla mused thoughtfully.  "It might be better if we sat down for awhile.  Are you hungry at all?  The new arrivals usually are."

"Now that you mention it, I could use a snack," Buffy said, suddenly realizing her stomach felt like an empty football.

In the blink of an eye, Buffy found herself sitting on a red and white checkered tablecloth with her three companions.  The meadow had disappeared, and in its place was a smooth beach of sugary white sand that stretched as far as the eye could see.  Lapping against the shore were soft waves tipped in foam, borne in from the cobalt sea on a deliciously light breeze that was scented with vanilla.  The sky overhead had remained a lovely shade of summer blue, and the sun's rays felt warm against her face.

"Egg salad or tuna fish?" asked Drusilla politely as she dug through a large picnic hamper that sat beside her.


	3. Chapter 3

Rating:  PG

Feedback:  That would be very nice, thank you.  Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  Up to "The Gift"

Distribution: Here.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  My take on what happened to Buffy after diving into the portal.

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Part 3

"Uh, I'll take the tuna," Buffy replied as she took in her new surroundings.  She also suddenly noticed that their clothing had changed as well.  She, Dru, and William were all wearing shorts and t-shirts, while Darla was decked out in a red bikini.  "You do realize that normally I'd be roasting weenies over all of you by now."

"And probably me, too," chirped a voice from behind her shoulder.  "Hi!  Oh my God, I love that color of nail polish, Dru!  It's soooo pretty!"

"Harmony?" the Slayer enunciated slowly in disbelief.  She turned around to see the blonde sitting on the sand a few feet from her, a silver reflector around her face to catch the sun's rays, garbed in a pink sundress and an enormous white straw hat that looked like it belonged in _Gone with the Wind_.   "You're here too?"

"Sure," she said, taking a swig out of a can of Diet Coke.  "I like the beach."

"Harm, why do you drink that stuff?"  Darla asked in disgust as she stared at the can.  "It's not like you need to worry about calories anymore."

"Habit," she explained happily, wiggling her toes in the sand.

"Whatever," Darla said with a raised eyebrow as she sipped delicately from a long-stemmed glass that held a tropical-looking concoction, complete with exotic floral garnish.

"Sorry I didn't stop by to say hi sooner, but I couldn't decide what to wear," Harmony gushed apologetically.  

"That's… okay."  Buffy barely managed to keep a straight face.  At least some things hadn't changed.  

"Here you are," Drusilla cooed almost maternally as she handed the Slayer an enormous tuna sandwich.  "If you'd care for some lemonade, you'll… find… it…"  

Her voice trailed away as her eyes seemed to be focusing on something far away.  Her face blanched until even her lips appeared colorless.  In a flash, William was at her side, his hands cupping the back of her shoulders supportively just as the brunette began to scream in agony.

"It's alright, luv," he said in a consoling voice that could barely be heard amidst the woman's shrieks.  "We're here.  You're not alone."

Buffy stared in horror at the scene before her.  Darla, with a surprisingly compassionate look on her face, was gently stroking Drusilla's dark curls back from her forehead.

"What's happening?" Buffy cried in alarm.  Turning towards Harmony, she saw that the girl had her hands thrown over her own face in a futile attempt to block out the frightening events.  

"It'll be over soon.  It'll be over soon.  It'll be over soon," the former Cordette chanted to herself as she rocked backwards and forwards.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Drusilla's eyes began to regain a sense of focus and her screams abated.  Exhausted, she slumped backwards, her head coming to rest on William's shoulder, her hand firmly clasped in Darla's.  After a few more minutes, she recovered enough to smile feebly at the slack-jawed Slayer.

"I'll be all right in a bit, dearie," she said in a labored voice as a single tear trickled down her cheek.  "This happens from time to time.  I was hoping I'd have enough time to warn you about it beforehand."

"Am I… is that going to happen to me, too?" the Slayer asked tremulously.

"No," William reassured her.  "You can put your mind at rest about that.  She, and Darla and Harm, for that matter, get like this whenever they…"

"Feed?"  Buffy finished for him. 

He nodded silently.  "We're still linked to our bodies back on the mortal plane.  It's all rather complex.  Knowledge of what the other part of us is doing travels back to us here."


	4. Chapter 4

Rating:  PG

Feedback:  That would be very nice, thank you.  Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  Up to "The Gift"

Distribution: Here.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  My take on what happened to Buffy after diving into the portal.

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Part 4

Darla held a glass of water that had materialized from nowhere in front of the brunette's still-whitened lips, quietly urging her to take a sip.  William continued to gently massage her shoulders in a soothing pattern until she was able to fully sit up on her own.  

"Y'okay, Dru?"  Harmony ventured to ask in a tentative, shaky voice as she timidly edged toward the other woman.

Drusilla reached over and patted the girl's hand in a comforting gesture.  "Poor dear.  You're still rather new to all this, aren't you?"

"Just about two Earth years exactly."

Drusilla gave her an understanding smile.  "Why don't you go and do something to take your mind off things for a bit?  Here," she said as a bottle of nailpolish the exact shade of her own violet fingernails was suddenly cradled in the palm of Harmony's hand, "consider it a gift."

The blonde's eyes lit up in spite of her previous terror as she started to shake the small bottle.  "Thanks!  I'll try to stop by again later.  Oh, and Buffy, I'm really glad you're dead!"  She pursed her lips thoughtfully.  "That didn't come out right, did it?"

"I get the message, Harmony.  Thanks."

Oddly enough, Harmony disappeared in a shower of pink and mint green bubbles.

"Nice girl.  Not enough brains cells to fill a thimble, but then, that can have advantages," Darla drawled as the pastel bubbles popped in the ocean breeze.

"Look, I don't like to bring up an unpleasant subject, but, well,"  Buffy paused.  "I'm still not sure I exactly get what just happened here."

"William, could you possibly explain it for her?  I'm afraid I have to leave for a while.  Darla, perhaps it would be best if you joined me?" Drusilla asked delicately.

"I'll give it the old college try, Dru, but you know I don't have much luck," Darla replied as she set down her cocktail in the sand and got to her feet.  

"We'll return as soon as possible," the dark-haired woman told the Slayer as she and Darla slowly disappeared into thin air.

Buffy closed her eyes tightly and shook her head in an effort to clear her mind from all the sudden comings and goings.  No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get used to the idea of people and things just appearing and vanishing without warning.  And as for Drusilla's episode, that was enough to make her hair stand on end just thinking about it.

When she opened her eyes once more, she found William looking at her with concern clearly visible in his sky-blue gaze.

"It's a bit much to take in all at once, isn't it?" he sympathized quietly.

"Yeah, well, I guess dying is kind of a big transition," Buffy replied with a smirk.

"I'll do my best to clear things up, but perhaps you'd care to retire to some place you'd find more comfortable?" he suggested.

"Like where?" 

"Anywhere you please.  You see, we have the ability to shape our surroundings to match our wishes.  Up until now, we've provided you with environments of our choosing; the meadow is a favorite spot of Drusilla's, and Darla dreamed up this beach," William explained as he began busily tidying up the remains of the picnic. 

Buffy slowly turned this over in her mind.  "What if you're talking to somebody and one of you wants to be in the meadow and the other one on the beach?"

"We usually take turns.  However,  if one of us feels the need to be in a particular spot very strongly, we end up taking the other person with us."  William had just finished folding the checkered tablecloth into a small square as he spoke.  

Suddenly, a thought occurred to her.  "If you can shape your surroundings, why are you bothering to clean up?  I mean, can't you just, you know, will it away or something?" 

"Ehm, well, actually, now that you mention it, yes, I could," he replied with an unmistakable blush.  "I'm sorry.  You're quite correct.  It's ridiculously foolish of me."  The basket and tablecloth vanished in an instant, leaving only a visibly embarrassed William and an apologetic-looking Buffy occupying the beach.  "I'm just a bit nervous is all.  Drusilla usually handles these things and, well, there are other… factors."

"Forget about it," the Slayer said as off-handedly as possible, desperately wishing she hadn't said anything about it to him.  The last thing she wanted to do was upset the decidedly kinder and gentler version of Spike. "So, all I have to do is think of a place and we're there?"

"Yes.  It can either be somewhere you've been or an imaginary setting, but it's usually easiest to start with something rooted in reality," he replied, happy at the change of subject.

Buffy closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she and William were seated on the couch in her living room.  Everything looked, felt, and even smelled exactly as it would if she actually had walked into her own home again, but she still had an awareness that she was creating the room with her own memories.  Just to see if she could, she tried turning the paint on the walls to a deep forest green, and the color immediately filled the space. 

"Excellent job!  Now that you've made yourself at home, quite literally in fact," he smiled sheepishly as she groaned at his awful pun, "let's get down to details.  I'm sure you're most concerned about why you're in Limbo to begin with, yes?"


	5. Chapter 5

Rating:  PG

Feedback:  That would be very nice, thank you.  Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  Up to "The Gift"

Distribution: Here.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  My take on what happened to Buffy after diving into the portal.  

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Part 5

Buffy nodded in reply.  "I haven't crossed over completely is what Kendra said.  Is it for the same reason you and the others are here?"

"Not exactly.  Bother, this is all rather complex.  You haven't studied Plato by any chance, have you?" he asked hopefully.

"No, sorry," she apologize, wondering if even in the afterlife she was going to get in trouble for not paying attention in Philosophy class.

"He's not the most thrilling writer, anyway," William said to her kindly.  He took a deep breath and dragged his fingers through his longish brown hair in frustration as he tried to think of a simple way to explain interdimensional dynamics.  Inspiration struck him so quickly, he actually leaped to his feet.

"Taffy!"

"Taffy?  Who's he?  I don't think I've read anything he's written either," Buffy said, wondering if he was going explode in excitement.

"No, no.  The candy!  Please, pardon my outburst.  You've eaten taffy, haven't you?"  he said as he sat down next to her again.  

"Well, yeah.  I guess so," Buffy said, wondering if he'd gone insane.

"Well, the soul is actually a lot like taffy.  When you're living your mortal life, it's like the taffy is still in its wrapper.  The wrapper is what everyone sees," he said, unconsciously clasping her hand in his as he spoke, "just like when you're alive, what you see is the physical, mortal substance of life."

"Okay, I think I've got you so far," the Slayer said as she began to roll the idea around in her mind.  

"The thing is, what actually makes you who you are is the soul inside:  the taffy, if you will.  If you were to go into a store and buy a pound of candy and all you got was a pound of packaging, you'd think yourself cheated."  

"Sure.  I wouldn't really be getting anything," she agreed.

"On the other hand, if the confectioner plopped a pound of taffy into your hand without any wrapper at all, that wouldn't be any good either," he continued, his eyes lighting up happily as he saw she was beginning to understand.

"No. That would just be weird."

"That's how it works in the physical world, as well.  People can't just be souls bouncing around down there.  Hence, they have bodies," he explained triumphantly.

"Okay.  So, body dies, it's like the wrapper gets yanked off the taffy?"  Buffy ventured carefully.

"Precisely!"

"And the taffy gets eaten?"  she asked, slightly horrified.

"Well, no, the parallel rather breaks down there."  William deflated a bit at this.  "The taffy usually either winds up someplace quite wonderful or someplace highly unpleasant."

"But we didn't."  The blonde chewed her lip thoughtfully.  "I mean, Limbo's pretty and all, and I'm really, really happy I didn't wind up you-know-where, but, come on, I jumped through a portal to my death in order to save the entire known universe.  I'd kinda think that was a Get Into Heaven Free card.  And you and Dru seem nice enough."

He noticed that she left Darla completely out of the equation, but he said nothing about it.

"Well, in the case of someone who dies through siring, there's a bit of a glitch, if you will.  The wrapper isn't merely thrown away but gets filled with something else, something that makes it look like the taffy is still in there when in fact…" William began.

"It's not," Buffy finished.

"Yes and no," he said, surprising her.

"But vampires don't have a soul.  Except for Angel, of course.  Giles has said so more times than I can remember."

"When a demon takes over a vampire's body, it's a little like the taffy has been left out in the sun all day.  When it's opened, most of it comes away from the paper, but a bit of it gets, for lack of a better word, gummed up in the wrapper and sticks there," the blue-eyed man said sadly, a far off look in his eyes.

"You're telling me vampires have souls in there?  Oh my God.  No wonder I'm in Limbo."  Her eyes filled with horrified tears at the idea.  "Dracula is right; I really am nothing but a killer."

"No, no, dear heart!  It's not like that at all," he exclaimed gently as he grasped her hand.  "What you're doing is getting rid of the demon that's holding that completely helpless piece of a soul prisoner and allowing it to rejoin the rest of itself in Limbo so it can go to its final home.  You can hardly have any idea how happy they are to move on.  After only a short time here, you're anxious to leave.  Poor old Bertie was stuck here for about five hundred years before he got to go home, and it was you who sent him there.  I've never seen a spirit look happier."

"Bertie?"

"His vampire called himself the Master," William said dismissively.

Buffy stared at the man as though he'd gone out of his mind.  "His name was Bertie?"

"Not too fear-inspiring, is it?  Probably why he never used it."  He gave her a smile that lit up his entire face, and, in spite of herself, Buffy couldn't help noticing that, dead or not, William was pretty easy on the eyes.  She blushed slightly as she realized he still held her hand, and she rapidly drew it away as she fumbled for another question.

"Why does part of the soul stay behind when there's a demon in there?"

William hadn't missed her momentary distress and, being the Victorian he was, he immediately started to internally berate himself for encroaching upon her personal space too much.  "We're not exactly sure.  It seems to have something to do with the soul knowing the body is still walking around and part of it thinking it has to be in there.  Of course, more or less taffy can be left on the wrapper, if you understand."

"Not really."

"Some vampires have more of a remnant of a soul in them than others do.  We're not certain why, but in a few cases, the demon in the vampire can be influenced by the soul.  Not controlled, precisely, but swayed, at times.  That's where Drusilla and Darla are now," he said, gesturing vaguely towards the floor.

"Huh?"  It wasn't the most intelligent reply, but it summed up her confusion quite nicely.

"In addition to being able to create our own surroundings, we can also return at will to earth.  Our influence is rather limited, but we do what we can when we see an opening.  If you like, we can go see them.  It may help you understand better," he suggested.

Buffy thought about this for a moment.  Who knew what kind of disgusting things the vampire half of Dru and Darla might be doing at that moment.  Still, it did sound interesting.

"Okay, I'm willing to give it a shot."

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she found herself in the last place she expected.


	6. Chapter 6

Rating:  PG

Feedback:  That would be very nice, thank you.  Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  Up to "The Gift"

Distribution: Here.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  My take on what happened to Buffy after diving into the portal.  

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Part 6

"You've got to be kidding me," Buffy said disbelievingly as she took in her new surroundings.  "Drusilla and Darla are in Las Vegas?"

"You sound surprised," came Darla's voice from just behind her, making her jump.  "It's actually a vampire's paradise:  high crime rate, the turn-over is constant so there's less chance of being recognized, nightlife is the norm, and the casinos have no windows."

"When you put it that way, it sounds like I was working around the wrong Hellmouth," the Slayer muttered to herself.  "So what are the other Darla and Dru doing here?"

"Ehm, well," Drusilla had appeared at Darla's elbow and was starting to blush rosily, "they're working as entertainers."

"Entertainers?  As in strippers?"  Buffy asked with a blink.

"No.  They haven't sunk quite that low.  Yet.  Darla sings torch songs in a bar and Drusilla gets all gussied up in sequins and abbreviated Lycra in one of those tacky chorus girl shows.  They don't really need the money; I think they're just bored—which is dangerous," Darla responded frankly, a note of concern creeping into her voice.  "I'm starting to suspect that Darla's plotting something, but I don't have the vaguest idea what it is."

"Drusilla in a chorus line.  I'm trying to picture that and failing, which might be a good thing," Buffy chuckled.

"I don't think the job is going to last very long.  She keeps forgetting the steps and crashing into the other girls," Dru said almost apologetically.

For just one moment Buffy allowed herself to take a step back from all that was happening in order to fully appreciate just how weird being dead was turning out to be.  She was about to comment on this to William when she realized with a start that he was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh, geez, I did it wrong, didn't I?" the Slayer thought out loud.

"Hmm?" asked Darla in a semi-interested tone.

"William.  I think I left him behind when we came here," Buffy responded with a shake of her head.  Alive, she'd never managed to get a driver's license.  Apparently, being dead hadn't helped her ability to get people from one place to another.

"No, dearie, you did just fine.  He just had to be somewhere else at the moment," Drusilla said with a frown.  "And I'm afraid it might be quite an important appointment he needed to keep."

"You guys can sense where the others are?"

"Nope.  Just Dru.  She may be dead, but she's still got that whole psychic thing going," Darla answered as she scanned the crowd, apparently looking for someone.  In another moment, her eyes locked on a figure across the room in the crowded bar where they stood.  "There I am."

Buffy turned in the direction of Darla's gaze and caught sight of a blonde figure who was utterly identical to the spirit standing next to her except for her clothes.  The other, obviously vampiric version, dressed in a skintight cocktail gown of champagne-colored satin, was standing on a small, raised stage about thirty feet away, wrapping up the final bars of Johnny Mercer's "Stardust."  With a small nod of approval, the Slayer noted she didn't have a bad voice.

"That'll be the end of the set," Darla said as she began to stride quickly across the room while her vampire self exited behind the excessively gaudy stage curtain.  It wasn't until now that Buffy noticed the other woman was actually walking directly through some of the living people in the room in order to get to where she was going.  None of them seemed to notice.

"Just a normal part of being on this end of things," Drusilla told her as she put a motherly arm around the other girl's shoulders.  "I know it's a bit startling at first, but the living don't feel us unless we want them to.  Well, except for those who have the sight, but they're quite rare.  You'll probably be able to sense them." 

Buffy gave herself a little shake and forced herself to try to accept just how different things had become in the last few hours.  "So, where is Darla going?"

"She'll try to influence the demon inside her body.  I'm afraid she hasn't had much success where that's concerned, but she does keep trying.  Was that why William suggested you come here, to see the connection between our soul-selves and our physical bodies?"

"I think so.  You mean that Darla's about to…" she broke off tentatively.

"I'm afraid so.  It's usually between sets," Drusilla answered the unasked question.  "Are you sure you feel up to this?  It isn't a very pleasant sight."

"If there's one thing I've rapidly become used to, it's unpleasant sights," Buffy declared with more determination than she actually felt.  After all, she had no possible way of defending whomever Darla's intended victim might be.  

"All right, then.  But you'd best move your level of vision first," Drusilla suggested casually as she began to lead Buffy in the same direction Darla had taken, completely ignoring the presence of any humans or objects in her way.

"My what of what?" the blonde asked with a slightly weary sigh.  Did being dead have to be so confusing all the time?

Drusilla stopped short.  "William didn't explain to you about the difference between the material world and the spirit world?" 

"Oh, he did that.  Taffy and everything.  I get that.  Well, mostly," the Slayer told her.  "It's kind of complicated, though."

"But he didn't mention that you can see both of them, if you wish?" Drusilla asked with a little smile.  Taffy?  He had to be the strangest soul she'd ever met.

"No.  He kind of left that part out."

"Well, it's quite easy.  As you're looking around now, you can see all the things that exist in the physical world, including human bodies.  If you concentrate, you can switch your sight so that instead of seeing what the average human does, you can see the other side of things, rather like a seer."

"I'll be able to see everything's soul?" Buffy said with a raised eyebrow.  

Drusilla paused, considering. "Well, that's roughly it.  Go ahead and give it a try."

Closing her eyes, she centered her mind on the idea of taking the wrapper off the taffy.  Slowly, as though a veil were lifting over her mind's eye, she became aware of a difference in her senses.  When she slowly lifted her eyelids, she was both nearly dazzled and deeply confused by the strange pictures that greeted her.


	7. Chapter 7

Rating:  PG

Feedback:  That would be very nice, thank you.  Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  Up to "The Gift"

Distribution: Here.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  My take on what happened to Buffy after diving into the portal.  

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Author's Note:  Sorry this one took so long to put up.  Quite frankly, the events of "Seeing Red" made me so furious that I needed a bit of a break before posting fic again.

Part 7

Buffy's eyes opened on a room that was strangely blurred.  While she could tell that the objects in the bar were still there – the chairs, the tables, the floor and walls – it was as though a scrim of gray veiling had been rested over the surface of every thing in the room.  Reasoning this out, the Slayer came to the conclusion that this was because things didn't have souls.

The people present, on the other hand, were changed so much as to be unrecognizable.  Features and forms were completely obscured, leaving a soft radiance in their place.  Each one glowed with a depth and intensity of light all his or her own.  No two were alike, yet there was something strangely similar between them all.  

She glanced towards Drusilla, hoping for an explanation, and was startled to find not the dark-haired, blue-eyed woman but a brilliant glow of golden light.  Glancing around the room once more, Buffy realized her companion was one of the brightest souls in the room, perhaps even the most dazzling of them all.

"You… you're…" the Slayer started to stammer in wonder.  "Wow."

"Quite," Drusilla voice said with a lilting chuckle.  "But before you become too impressed with me, perhaps you'd best take a look at yourself."

Buffy moved her hands in front of her face and was shocked to see blazing light, intense as…

"'It's brighter than the fire,' I believe she said," Drusilla chuckled quietly.  "But come now, we'd best see what Darla has been able to accomplish.  I hope she's had more luck than usual."

The two followed the direction Darla had taken, Buffy still half-mesmerized by her new view of the world.  In mere moments, they had passed through a stage door and out into an alley behind the casino, where a truly bizarre sight met their eyes.  

Not one, but two struggles were taking place.  The one that would have been obvious to mortal eyes was the vampire Darla pummeling a rather fat, greasy, flashily dressed middle-aged man.  However, what would have been missed by the majority of humans was an even more surreal display than an attempted biting.  Darla's soul was glimmering just behind her vampire, repeatedly trying to pass through its body in much the same way that she would pass through a wall.  But the vampire itself… Buffy shuddered.  It was a dark gray form, devoid of the beauty present in the humans she had seen, although when she looked at it closely enough, it did have what appeared to be a single spark of light fluttering around the area where the heart must be.

Darla's soul was uttering some decidedly non-mystical language as she was thrown out from the vampire's form time and again.

"Let me in!"  she shrieked angrily, and Buffy experienced yet another shock as she realized Darla was practically in tears.  "That's my body you've got, and I'm saying stop it!"

The single, firefly-like light in the vampire's body drifted as close to the rest of itself, for the Slayer had already realized it was the part of Darla's soul that had become trapped, as it could, straining desperately towards her.

It was too late.  As Dru and Buffy looked on in helplessness, the vampire succeeded in draining the man.  As the light began to separate from the victim's body, Darla howled aloud in anguish, obviously experiencing the same pain that Drusilla had earlier.  In a flash, both of the other females were at her side, attempting to comfort her.  Suddenly, it no longer mattered that Buffy didn't particularly like the other blonde.  Darla's suffering both terrified and saddened her.

As this was taking place, the light that had been inside the man's form detached from the body completely, leaving an empty, gray-veiled object lying on the equally gray alley's ground.  Slowly, the disembodied light faded away, much as Buffy suspected her own had when she'd found herself in Limbo.  The vampire turned to go, but was suddenly joined by yet another dark-gray form.

"That's the other me," Drusilla explained softly as she and Buffy continued to softly support Darla's light with their own radiance.  It was obvious the experience had drained her terribly.

The Slayer looked at the second vampire and immediately noticed a substantial difference between her and Darla.  Instead of a single spark, Drusilla's vampire retained a ball of light the size of a fist, but it crackled and sputtered strangely, sometimes growing slightly larger, sometimes dimming down to a mere candle flame.

"There's more soul in yours," Buffy remarked in puzzlement.  "But it's…"

"Flickering?  That's the insanity.  I may not have it anymore, but since that piece of my soul is still inside a human body, it's as broken as ever it was," Drusilla murmured sadly.  "I can't even try to join with it like Darla does.  Instead, I work through, well, an intermediary of sorts."

"An inter-what-iary?"

"I have to try to approach my soul through another source.  Since it can't understand me on its own, I have to speak to it in a roundabout way."

The Slayer was just about to ask what she meant when it dawned on her exactly what Drusilla was talking about.


	8. Chapter 8

Rating:  PG

Feedback:  That would be very nice, thank you.  Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  Up to "The Gift"

Distribution: Here.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  My take on what happened to Buffy after diving into the portal.  

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Part 8

"You talk to her through her doll, don't you," Buffy ventured tentatively.

"Yes.  In a way, you could say that I am Miss Edith," Drusilla said as Darla managed to support her own weight again.  The experience of the feeding was still making her queasy and weak, but she was starting to recover.  "Unfortunately, even that way, things turn out rather garbled.  As often as not, when I tell her something she doesn't want to hear, she just pouts that I'm 'speaking out of turn' and ignores me."

The three souls were now leaving the alley and meandering down the Vegas Strip.  It was quite an interesting trip, to say the least.  Glitz was completely stripped away, and instead, all Buffy noticed were the lights of the human souls around her.  After awhile, she became aware of yet another strange occurrence.

"Some of them are brighter than others," the Slayer remarked as she studied the passing figures.

Darla nodded in response.  "They've all got souls, but some of 'em are stronger than others.  It varies from minute to minute, too.  Try looking at the scene over there with regular vision first."

Concentrating once again, Buffy closed her eyes and opened them on a none-too-pretty view.  A heavily made-up prostitute boldly flirted with a man in a business suit, a group of suspicious-looking teens hung around the entrance to one of the casinos, and a family of four strolled the sidewalk, eyeing their surroundings with distaste.

"What do you see?" the blonde asked Buffy quietly.

"Hooker.  Probably a gang.  Vacationers with 'mug me' practically tatooed on their foreheads," she replied.

"Now try looking again, this time the next level up," Darla suggested, a knowing smile crinkling her eyes.

Taking a moment to change her viewpoint, Buffy was stunned.  The brightest soul on the sidewalk belonged to the prostitute.  The others all had varying degrees of darkness, but the so-called "gang" seemed quite angelic compared to the benign-looking family's mother.

"Not always the way you think it's going to be, is it?" Darla murmured as she reached out a tendril of her own light and used it to gently caress the streetwalker's aura in passing.  

"No, I guess it isn't," the Slayer agreed quietly.

"I'm growing concerned about our William," Drusilla suddenly interjected.  "He's been gone a terribly long time."

"Have any idea what's up with him, Dru?"  Buffy asked, the nickname slipping off her tongue as though the two had been friends for ages.

"I have my suspicions.  It most likely has to do with, well, the recent events in Sunnydale,"  Drusilla tactfully suggested.

"You mean me dying?  What would that have to do with William?"

"You know, for a kid who managed to survive a lot longer than most Slayers, you're not too bright sometimes," Darla said with a roll of her eyes.  "Think for a second.  What happened the last time Spike lost somebody he loved."

"You mean when Drusilla left him?  He got all gloomy and depressed and then he tried… to…"  Her words drifted off as she remembered Willow telling her that the witch had walked in on Spike attempting to stake himself.  "Oh, geez, you don't think the bleached idiot  would do something, well, idiotic?"

The other two females exchanged looks that did nothing to reassure her.

Locking eyes with Drusilla, Buffy half begged, half demanded "Where is he?"

"Giles's home.  But Buffy, I don't think it would be wise for you to…"

The rest of Drusilla's words were lost as the sheer force of Buffy's will transported the three of them back to Sunnydale.  When her hazel eyes opened, the first thing they beheld mystified her completely.


	9. Chapter 9

Rating:  PG, though not much objectionable actually happens

Feedback:  Thank you kindly Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  For "The Gift"

Distribution: Here.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  Buffy jumped through the big old portal and died. This is my take on what happens to her next.

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Part 9

Buffy squinted at the scene before her and became even more confused.  She was obviously in Giles's living room, that much she could tell.  But there only appeared to be one person present, and she'd never laid eyes on him before.  Even more bizarre was the fact that Buffy was still viewing the world from the level of souls, and the man, instead of appearing as a bright light, looked perfectly normal.  He was standing next to a bookcase, peering at the titles with an interested look on his face.

"What the…"  Buffy began, speaking to Drusilla, who had appeared at her shoulder, but to her amazement, the man turned around at the sound of her voice.

"Hey!  You gotta be Buffy, right?" the man asked as he grinned broadly and walked across the room, passing directly through the table.

"Uh, yeah, that would be me," Buffy responded carefully, looking to the other two spirits for reassurance.  Attempting a quick test, Buffy returned her vision momentarily to the physical level, and the stranger disappeared from her view completely.  Whoever he was, a normal mortal wouldn't be able to see him.   

"He's just a ghost," Darla explained in a mildly bored voice.  "They don't look the same as us because they still feel more connected to the regular, humdrum, physical world than the next level up."

"So, he's not quite human, but he doesn't want to be a spirit, so," Buffy tried to follow the reasoning slowly.

"So I can hear everything you're saying," the man interrupted with a slightly annoyed tone.  "I have stuff I still need to do down here, so I still look, for all intents and purposes, like a human to you."

"Sorry.  Didn't mean to be rude," Buffy apologized.  "Guess I've just gotten used to no one being able to hear me."

"Ah, it's okay.  By the way, the name's Dennis," the ghost said as he stuck out his hand.  The Slayer shook it uncertainly.  "And you two other lovelies would be…?"

"I'm Drusilla and that's Darla," the brunette replied in a friendly voice, gesturing towards Darla, who had now taken up residence on the couch.  "How is it that you happen to be here?"

"I room with Cordelia.  She's in town for the funeral with the rest of the L.A. crew," Dennis told her. 

"My condolences," Buffy offered sympathetically.

"But you're the one who died," he said bemusedly.

"No, about you having to live with Cordelia."   Buffy smiled as he rolled his eyes comically.  Suddenly, she remembered why they'd arrived in the first place.

"Where's William?" she asked quickly, glancing around as though she expected to see the now familiar spirit perching on the kitchen counter.

"Upstairs, I believe," Drusilla said quietly.

In a flash, Buffy whipped up the staircase only to run directly into a very weary William, his soul wonderfully bright, but seeming almost to sag somehow.

"You okay? " she asked gently, resting her hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, I believe everything will be fine now," he said in a tired voice.  

"What are you doing here, though?  I mean, weren't you supposed to be with Spike?"  Buffy questioned him.

"I brought him here.  It was the best place for him.  He's asleep now, thank goodness, although it took long enough," William said as he plodded wearily down the stairs.


	10. Chapter 10

Rating:  Still going with PG, although it's a pretty tame PG, at that

Feedback:  Thank you kindly.  Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  Through season five's "The Gift"

Distribution: Here and eventually the Warren.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  Buffy jumped through the portal and died.  But what happened to her next?

Author's Note:  Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story.  I actually have most of it already finished; it's just waiting to be put up.  I know the last few chapters were a little short, but this one is a little longer.

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Part 10 

"William!  You look exhausted!" Drusilla cried as she rushed towards the other soul.  Darla looked up from the couch and her face clouded.

"You got through, didn't you?"  the blonde asked in a tone that said she already knew the answer.

William nodded before suddenly collapsing to the floor.  He appeared to be unconscious.

"We need to get him out of here.  Now."  Darla's tone brooked no contest.  

In the span of a single human heartbeat, they found themselves in a decidedly masculine, comfortable, book lined study with beams of sunlight pouring through large bay windows that looked out upon a windswept moor.  William's frighteningly still form was draped over one of the soft couches upholstered in hunter green leather.  Buffy knelt beside him, her features etched in concern.

"What's happened to him?"  she asked the other two women.

"Spike must be in real turmoil," Drusilla replied as she gently sponged his forehead with a damp cloth.  "Remember how I said that Darla and I attempt to influence our other selves?"  

Buffy nodded.  

"William has always had a more… direct link to Spike than either of us have to our old bodies.  The connection between the two of them is very strong.  When Spike used to feed…" Drusilla shuddered violently.  "You remember how bad it was for Darla and me?  It was about ten times worse for him.  He'd barely get over the last time before the next one would hit."

"But on the up side, he hasn't had to deal with that for over a year now.  And he's always been able to reign in his other self better than Dru and I," Darla explained as she massaged his feet.  "Ever since the chip, the connection has grown, too."

William's eyes fluttered open briefly.  He wrinkled his nose and burrowed into the cushions more deeply before turning his sky-blue gaze on the others.

"I swooned, didn't I?" he said with a note of disgust.

"William, dearest, don't berate yourself so," Drusilla admonished him.  "You did what needed to be done.  Anyone would tire."

He slowly pushed himself into a seated position and proceeded to drink from a large mug of hot chocolate that had spontaneously appeared.  With a small pop, about a dozen miniature marshmallows were suddenly added as he sipped.  William looked over the rim with surprise at Buffy, and she smiled warmly.

"My mom told me Spike liked them.  I hoped you might, too."

His eyes crinkled as he smiled wearily and set the half-emptied cup on a nearby table.  "Yes, that does happen to be one of the things we have in common.  I've always had a monstrous sweet tooth.  Funnily enough, it meant I had rather poor teeth as a mortal… something Spike has never needed to worry about."

"What happened down there?"  Buffy asked quietly. 

William sighed sadly and rubbed his head as though a migraine was stirring inside.  "He was, indeed, contemplating ending his unlife.  I believe he was planning on staying on your gravesite until sunrise.  Some silly load of tosh about wanting to die with you.  Honestly, all he was really doing was thinking of himself.  So I made him think of someone else.  Dawn."

"She's staying with Giles?" 

"Yes.  I managed to get him to go there.  We're both really quite devoted to your little sister.  He's sleeping on the floor in the hallway outside the door to her room.  I don't think I'll need to worry about him doing something ridiculously insane again," William said as a table appeared in front of him, practically groaning beneath the weight of a succulent roast turkey, steaming mashed potatoes with melting butter, a plate full of golden beef pasties, loaves of tantalizingly scented fresh bread, and a full compliment of china and silverware for four.  It smelled downright heavenly, Buffy thought with a wry smile.  "We never did get to enjoy our picnic before.  Please, eat up."

Until now, Buffy had completely forgotten her empty stomach.  Now she realized she was, in fact, practically ravenous.  The four of them dined pleasantly in the old-fashioned study, a warm fire crackling in the fireplace sending cheerful light dancing over the group.  It was such a relief for Buffy not to worry about how much she was eating or fat or cholesterol.  It was a completely guilt free dinner.  At the close of the meal, William gave her a little smile and a huge slice of chocolate cake, dripping in hot fudge, smothered in vanilla ice cream, and topped with an enormous mound of whipped cream dotted with colored sprinkles, plopped directly in front of her.

"Don't worry.  You can't get a stomach-ache," Drusilla mock-whispered conspiratorially as she proceeded to delve into a large piece of apple pie while Darla busied herself with a mammoth bowl of cherries jubilee and William nibbled a stack of oatmeal raisin cookies.

"You know, this Limbo thing isn't half bad," Buffy remarked as she brought a fudge-loaded fork to her mouth.  

After eating, she felt surprisingly energetic.  There was no post-Thanksgiving Day dinner heaviness, just a general sense of having eaten well.  The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, and she was pleased to see William was looking far better than before.  Unfortunately, the quiet moment was broken abruptly when both Darla and Drusilla suddenly stood.

"I'm afraid we need to be leaving again," Drusilla said quickly.  "Please, don't get up.  We'll return as soon as we can."

"Are you sure?"  Buffy began, but before the words finished leaving her mouth, the two spirits had vanished, leaving her with no idea where to find them again.  This left William and her quite alone once more.  On an impulse, she asked him the question that had been bothering her.

"William, it's, you know, really great and all that you stopped Spike from killing himself, because he may be annoying but he's kind of grown on me and I feel safer knowing Dawn has him to protect her, but wouldn't it have been easier for you to just, sort of, let him go poof so that you can hitch the next ride out of here?"  she managed to get out in one breath.

William looked a bit flummoxed, and, raking his fingers through his hair in a gesture she was beginning to recognize as signalling that the soul was feeling awkward, he began to sputter a reply.

"Darla has asked me that more times than I can count," he began.  "It's just, well, Spike has a rather unusual opportunity.  As do I.  His demon has been muzzled very effectively by the chip, which means that…"  He drifted off, trying to find the words.

Slowly, Buffy began to grasp what was happening.  "Will, when I looked at the other Darla, she had a soul the size of Tinkerbell.  Dru's was bigger, maybe five times the size, although it looked like a strobe light it flickered so much.   Just how much taffy got left in Spike's wrapper?"


	11. Chapter 11

Rating:  Still going with PG, although it's a pretty tame PG, at that

Feedback:  Thank you kindly.  Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  Through season five's "The Gift"

Distribution: Here and eventually the Warren.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  Buffy jumped through the portal and died.  But what happened to her next?

Author's Note:  Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story.  I actually have most of it already finished; it's just waiting to be put up.  I know the last few chapters were a little short, but this one is a little longer.

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Part 11 

William sighed quietly and got up from the table, sitting down on the sofa once more and looking out at the countryside.  An expression of sadness crossed his face, and for a moment, Buffy could have kicked herself for causing it.

"You know, I never saw this place when I was alive," William said quietly.  "It's rather a collection of all the lovely country manors that I'd read about in Dickens and Bronte and all the rest of them.  When the real world became too much for me, I'd retreat here in my mind.  When I came to this reality, I sort of took this place with me.  It felt like home to me.  And I needed that quite desperately for a very long time.  Something, anything, comforting to hold on to."

Buffy didn't remember walking over to the couch and sitting down next to William.  She merely found herself quietly resting next to him on the deep green leather, her own eyes staring at the sun-dappled moors beyond, watching the passing breeze making ripples in the tufts of long grass.

"It was… bad for you, afterwards, wasn't it.  I mean, Dru mentioned that you had a stronger connection to yourself than she or Darla do now."

The soul nodded.  "Yes, quite terrible.  I did what I could to control the demon, reign it in so to speak, but, well, there was only so much I could do.  It was… agonizing." He shuddered.  "But at least I kept Spike from ever siring anyone else.  He's never put anyone else here, made them go through what we've been through.  It's not much, but it's something."

A gentle hand rested on his shoulder for a moment before just as quickly pulling back.  There was no reason to make this more complicated than it already was, Buffy reminded herself.  William quivered imperceptibly from her touch, but forced himself to remain looking out the window. 

"So… more soul was left inside Spike, right?" Buffy asked abruptly in an effort to break the silence.

"Not to begin with, no.  About the same amount as Drusilla, really, though the strobe-light effect, as you called it, didn't occur.  But over time, the demon began to display some unusual characteristics, and, oddly, it began to… well, for lack of a better term, the soul remnants began to grow.  The other Drusilla, the vampire, could see it happening, and it puzzled her.  Puzzled us too, truth to tell.  Spike was capable of loving her with a devotion and depth that simply isn't normal in a vampire.  Certainly Darla and Angelus never felt it for each other.  Liam had a few theories about that, mainly that he hadn't been able to feel love like that for any of the women he'd been… with," William's face turned a rosy shade at the word, "and neither had Darla, while Dru had more of a capacity for it, though she never had the chance to use it, and, of course, there was the problem of her mind.  I actually did care for someone before I died, though the feelings turned out to be sadly misplaced.  He thought maybe that ability stayed with Spike to some extent."

Buffy's face puckered in confusion. "Who's Liam?"

"Ehm… that would be Angel.  His human name was Liam," William explained with embarassment.

"Wait… so, you and Angel's soul used to hang out together?"  Buffy asked in confusion.

"Well, yes, in a manner of speaking.  He came here when he was first turned, although, rather like Darla, his version of Limbo was slightly less pristine.  The ability to create comfortable surroundings seems to be linked to just where the rest of the soul would have gone after death.  The second time he came back, though, he was on the same level here with Dru and me."  William hesitated for a moment before adding, "He was always talking about you.  How much he missed you, how terrible he felt for what you were going through, how… much he loved you…" his voice drifted away.

A tear rolled down Buffy's cheek at the thought of her old love.  No matter how much time or space separated them, they would always have a bond.

"Oh, drat, now I've gone and made you cry," William said in a tone that made it clear he was annoyed with himself.  "That was the last thing I wanted to do.  As if you haven't been through enough already!"

"It's okay, William.  You didn't do anything wrong.  I'm glad he had you two when he was here.  I'm guessing… it probably wasn't an easy time for him, either."

William decided it would probably be better not to mention that Angel had spent those months nearly catatonic with grief and remorse, especially following the Jenny incident.  

"Yes, well, he's quite an extrordinary fellow," William replied.  "He's heard about what happened to you, by the way.  He's arriving in Sunnydale tomorrow for the, ehm, arrangements."

Buffy took in this new piece of information slowly.  Arrangements.  That meant a funeral.  Specifically, her funeral.  All at once, she felt incredibly tired and drained.  "Do I still need to sleep?" she asked in a voice that lay bear everything she'd been through in the last few years.

"Not exactly.  We can go for ages without it, but sometimes, when the spirit gets weary because of strain or worry, yes, we can sleep.  It's quite common amongst new arrivals.  Would you care to retire for a bit, Buffy?  Remember, you can recreate your own bedroom down to the smallest detail, if you wish, or any other place you choose.  You can have a bed of soft, lily-scented clouds bathed in the colors of the sunset, or you can lay down on top of the sea, rocked to sleep by the waves, or maybe you'd simply like to be suspended in mid-air."

Buffy wrinkled her nose a bit at the last suggestion. "I think I've had enough of being suspended in mid-air for one day," she explained with a wry grin.

"Yes, yes I suppose you would have," William chuckled.  "Drusilla usually retires to a quaint little garden edged in roses and lilacs for a nap in a hammock.  I'm certain she'd let you borrow it, if you wish."

Buffy smiled sleepily, amused by the idea that she was half-considering using Drusilla's bedroom.  One whole heck of a lot had changed.  "If it's alright with you, I think I'd rather just curl up in front of the fireplace in here.  It's cozy."

William smiled at her warmly, more than a little proud that she'd chosen his own favorite spot for her rest.  "That's perfectly fine."

Slowly, so as not to disturb her with suddenness, a large, comfortable, down-filled pillow with a pale pink velvet case faded into existence on the floor next to the fire, along with a soft, warm counterpane of deep pink satin.   The fire continued to crackle away quietly, though the light it shed dimmed, leaving the room lit only by a soft glow.   

"I'll just leave you to your rest.  Sleep well, Buffy," William said softly as he began to leave.

Buffy's eyes shot wide open for a moment. "I know this is kind of a lot to ask, but, could you do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"Would you mind not going?  It's just… I'm afraid I'm going to wake up alone in a coffin or something,"  she mumbled in embarassment.

"What a dreadful thought! There's nothing at all for you to be afraid of here.  I assure you, you're perfectly safe and sound," he explained in concern.   The poor dear has had so many ordeals in her young life that even here she feels threatened, he thought.

"I know.  But, well, would you stay anyway?  At least until I fall asleep?"  Buffy asked, feeling rather childish.

Despite the panic attack the thought gave William's Victorian sensibilities, he turned around and sat back down on the couch.  "If it will make you feel more comfortable, of course I shall stay with you."

"Thanks," she said gratefully.  Then she climbed under the blanket, settled her head on the soft pillow, and turned towards the fire.  On a sudden whim, she brought one last thing into being to make everything perfect.

William watched her as the firelight made soft shadows and patches of brightness on her face and hair above the pink satin.  Eventually, he knew she had fallen into a deep, exhausted sleep.  Time continued to pass, and after a while, William quietly crossed the floor to her to take one more close look at her face by the firelight.  He couldn't help grinning merrily at what he saw.  There, clutched tightly in the arms of the fiercest Slayer in four centuries, was a pink plush piggy.

"We'll both look after her.  Right, Mr. Gordo?"  William whispered to the stuffed animal.

Whether it was the firelight or not he couldn't be sure, but it certainly looked as though Mr. Gordo winked at him.


	12. Chapter 12

Rating: PG  

Feedback: Thank you.  Melpomenethalia@aol.com       

Spoilers:  Through "The Gift"

Distribution: Here.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  Buffy's still dead.  

Author's Note:  It's taking me a while, but it's getting' there…

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Part 12 

How long Buffy lay asleep on the floor she was never sure.  All she knew was that she awoke feeling deeply refreshed, like when she was a little girl and it was the first day of summer vacation.  She yawned luxuriously, and as her eyes opened, she saw William's form draped over the couch, his eyes shut tightly and a gray woolen blanket thrown over him.

Buffy smiled happily.  At the speed of her thoughts, two plates of steaming chocolate-chip pancakes appeared on the table, accompanied by tall glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice, a bowl of vanilla whipped cream, and a dish of confectioner's sugar.  To her amusement, she saw William's nostrils twitch as the aroma reached his nose.  His eyelids sprang up without ceremony, and he was shoveling pancakes into his mouth in less than a moment.

"Hope you slept well," he mumbled through a very full mouth.

She giggled and realized that here was the first place she had truly felt able to laugh in many months.  No demons to slay, no portals to close, no friends in peril.  Just her, a pile of chocolate-chip pancakes, and a friend.  It felt plain nice.

"Very.  No bad dreams," she said with a smile.  "Thanks for staying, though."

"And thank you for the breakfast.  I don't believe I've ever had these before.  Breakfast in my time was often as not a fried tomato sandwich."

A companionable silence followed, broken only by the sounds of knives and forks scraping against plates.  It was strange, but she felt a very comfortable bond with William, as though she had brought with her a bit of her old ally, but untainted by the stains of his vampire self.  It was a warm feeling, like a piece of home.  Home… her thoughts turned to what William had told her before her sleep.  Today was her funeral.  Suddenly, her appetite completely vanished.

"Is there something wrong," William inquired with concern.  At her lack of response, he nodded.  "The funeral.  I understand."

"Did you… were you there for yours?" Buffy asked tentatively.  She didn't want to pry.

William drew a deep breath and pushed the plates away, the table abruptly vacant again.  "Will you come with me, Buffy?  I've someplace to show you."

She bobbed her head in assent, and suddenly she and William were seated on a bench under the shade of a yew tree in a silent graveyard.  A large stone church stood in the background, it's shadow falling across them in the early morning light.  A single, unfamiliar birdcall from the branches above broke the stillness in the place, and Buffy realized that a low, simple headstone lay beside her.  The inscription read "William Stevens, 1855-1880, Dearest Son."

"You?"

He gave her a soft smile.  "Yes.  I was here.  My poor, dear mother sat just where you are now, and my little sister knealt beside her, her head in her lap as they both wept."  His eyes sparkled more than usual, and he blinked rapidly.  "Would it surprise you to know Spike came here once, as well?"

"Why?"

"I'm not quite sure.  The shade from the tree is very thick, even at mid-day.  He stayed in its branches, watching the picture of our mourning sister and mother over his now-empty coffin from above like some perverse angel.  But… I believe his heart, demonic as it was, was moved.  I swear I saw a tear trace his cheek," he paused.  "He left them alone.  They never knew."

No amount of blinking could disperse the tear that mirrored the path taken down his demon-self's face so long ago.  He turned away, embarrassed, but Buffy touched his shoulder gently, and when he turned, she stroked his cheek softly.  The soul colored unmistakably, but she placed a quick kiss to his temple anyway.

"You miss them, don't you?"

"Ehm, yes," said the flustered young man before her. "Yes, I do.  They remind me very much of your mother and Dawn.  Perhaps it's part of the reason Spike fought so hard to keep them from having to mourn you these last few months."

"But, you did go to your own funeral?  I'm not sure whether going would be a good thing or just… weird," she confessed.  

"It's entirely your choice, Buffy. No one will think the worse of you if you decide not to. If you choose to go, we'll accompany you, if you like," he offered. "It's not easy, though.  I must tell you that."

Buffy considered for a moment.  Somehow, it felt right that she should be there, even if she couldn't offer her loved ones any sign of her presense.  "I know it won't be easy, but, well, that hasn't stopped me before.  But I'd like it if the three of you were there, if you wouldn't mind."

William smiled at her with undisguised admiration.  She was a strong one, no question about it.

"I'll be beside you, for what it's worth.  Drusilla?  Darla?" he called.  "Would you come here, please?"

The two spirits walked out from behind the tree to answer his summons, Drusilla dressed in a snowy white gown and Darla in a pair of jeans and a tight, low, red sweater.  Drusilla's gaze seemed to read Buffy's intent immediately, and the Slayer reminded herself that she was, after all, psychic.  

The dark haired woman drew her into a sisterly embrace and murmured "Of course I shall go with you."

"What?  The funeral?" Darla asked.  "Suppose I may as well tag along."

Buffy smiled at the other blonde over Dru's shoulder, happy in spite of herself that the other woman was coming as well.  For all her prickles, Darla had an unvarnished, raw honesty to her that might be a help.

A hand rested lightly on her arm, squeezing reassuringly, and Buffy was stunned to see that it belonged to Darla.  With Drusilla's arm thrown gently around her waist on one side, Darla's hand still pressing her arm lightly on the other, and William standing behind her, his hand daring to stretch out to barely stroke her hair in a comforting gesture, Buffy prepared for the arrival of her mourners.  She hadn't long to wait.


	13. Chapter 13

Rating:  PG

Feedback: That would be very nice, thank you.  Melpomenethalia@aol.com 

Spoilers:  Through season 5's finale, "The Gift"

Distribution: Here.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  Buffy's still dead.  So are Dru, William and Darla.  

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Part 13 

The tread of footsteps on the grass was heard approaching through the dense brush surrounding the site.  Buffy was startled to realize that she was not to be buried next to her mother, nor in any of the other cemetaries she had patrolled, but it took her a moment to understand why.  Of course.  Her death needed to be kept secret from the very demons that were most likely to frequent cemetaries.  Still, she couldn't help thinking, this can't exactly be legal, can it?

The first figures to enter her line of vision were Willow, Dawn, and Tara.  Her sister looked like a complete wreck, her eyes bloodshot and her steps unsteady from the dizziness caused by her blood loss from that night.  She was barely being held up by the two other girls, one grasping an arm on either side of her, Tara's expression one of deep sympathy and somehow reminiscent of Buffy's mother during her kindest moments, and Willow patting Dawn's back gently, murmuring words that came out hoarsely from a voice that had obviously been rendered raw through crying.  Buffy made a move to go towards her sister automatically, but Drusilla gripped her waist a little tighter.

"Dearie, it might be best to wait.  William did explain that they can't hear or see you, yes?"

Buffy gave a curt nod, annoyed at being stopped.

"The strange thing is, though, that a few of them might be able to sense you if you're very close.  If you were to approach Dawn too abruptly, it might frighten or confuse her.  Take your time, Buffy."

"Yeah," Darla put in.  "The kid might flip if you just come storming up on her.  Take it slow."

"Thanks," she said, glad that they'd managed to stop her.  She suddenly noticed how unusual that was.  Apparently, Slayer strength didn't really count on this end of things.  Of couse, she didn't exactly have a body anymore, so that made sense.

By this time, the three mortals were standing beside the open grave, and behind them came a larger, slower group.  Her coffin was being carried foreward by four bearers.  The first two who were visible were Giles and Xander, walking beside eachother, their faces strained.  Xander's eyes were very red, and he was obviously trying hard not to cry.  

Buffy's eyes brimmed with tears at the sight of her friend in such turmoil, but it was Giles who actually made her cry in earnest.  The man was crushed.  He seemed to have aged fifteen years in a day.  His face was haggard and covered in a fine mist of stubble.  Most frightening, though, were his shoulders that sagged into a posture that Buffy had never seen him have before.  He looked defeated.  With a small sob, she buried her face in Drusilla's neck as Darla wrapped her arms around the pair of them and William gently took Buffy's hands in his.  

When Buffy recovered enough to look up once more, the casket was almost directly in front of her, and she was stunned to see that the final two who carried her were Spike and Angel walking side by side, looks of grim determination etched on their faces.  Spike's gash from his fall off the tower was dressed, and judging by the slightly haphazard bandage it had been the work of Dawn.  His eyes were glued to the grass, and she saw him biting his lip in an effort not to break down.  

Angel, on the other hand, was staring directly ahead, his posture absolutely perfect, almost military, as though he was committed to bearing this burden with the utmost respect.  Despite his proud carriage, tears flowed swiftly down his cheeks from his unblinking brown eyes, and there was a hollowness in his gaze that spoke volumes of his grief for her.   

Behind them, following the casket, were Cordelia, looking an interesting combination of depressed and annoyed, Anya, whose injured arm was in a sling, Wesley,  his head bowed politely, an African-American man she didn't know who appeared to be feeling a bit out of place, an unknown dark-haired woman who kept jumping at the slightest noise, and…

"Harmony?" she asked in disbelief.   "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, hi!" the spirit called in an inappropriately loud voice as she waved.  "I heard everyone was going to your funeral, so I just thought I'd, you know, come along.  See what everyone's wearing.  Check out the flowers they got you.  That sort of stuff."

Buffy shot William a look that was very close to total bafflement, and he shrugged apologetically, then whispered as quietly as possible in her ear, "Ehm, death doesn't necessarily make the deceased any smarter."

Buffy found herself stifling a laugh during her own funeral.  

Harmony, wearing a flamboyant dress made of a yellow and green geometric print, remained standing with the mourners, examining them closely.

"Don't you just hate Cordy's new hair?  Ugh, the other me didn't want to say anything when she saw her in L.A., but whew, major fashion faux pas.  Angel must not be paying her very much if she's wearing those shoes out in public, either.  They are so two seasons ago," she babbled on.  "I didn't meet the new girl; what's with her burlap dress?"

Buffy seemed to have developed a sudden bad cough while Darla stared at the ditz with a look of blatant disbelief written in bold letters across her face.  Drusilla's eyes had widened so much they seemed to be threatening to join above her nose.  

"Harmony, could you do us a favor?"  Darla asked tersely.  "Could you just please put a sock in it?"

Harmony good-naturedly made a little key-turning-and-tossing-away motion around her mouth and directed her attention to the service. At least, she seemed to.  It may have been that she was silently critiquing the wardrobe of everyone present one by one.  In any case, she remained quiet as the funeral began.

The pallbearers carefully lowered her casket to the ground, stepping back, as Giles stood at its head.  Buffy looked at the brown, wooden box that sat before her, trying to comprehend that her body was inside it.  

"Xander made it himself.  He worked all night," Drusilla explained. 

Buffy's hand reached out to touch the wood, but her palm just slipped through it like water.  It must have been horrible, she thought, having to build this for me.  She looked at Xander once more with pity in her eyes.

Giles began to speak in a voice that carried to all those present, although it was very difficult for him to do.  

"We each hold memories of Buffy in our hearts that we treasure, and that's as it should be.  What's wrong is that there should be more of them:  far more," he spoke, his voice cracking slightly on the last word.  Willow rubbed his forearm.  "I didn't want this duty, ever, but as her Watcher, I knew there was a strong chance that I would have to bury my Slayer someday.  Buffy survived far longer than the Council ever thought she would.  When I was first given this assignment, they told me to expect it to last no longer than six months at the outside.  Of the Slayers in recorded history, Buffy wound up surviving longer than all but five."

"It still wasn't long enough," Dawn said bitterly.  

"No, no it wasn't," Giles agreed sadly.  "I was supposed to see her as nothing but a warrior, but that was impossible for me.  She was far more than that.  As time passed, I loved her as deeply as I would have my own child."  His composure broke, and his tears felt like they were burning a hole in Buffy's heart.  "And I had a father's pride in her."

William gripped her hand all the more tightly as another sob wrenched itself from Buffy.  Giles was staring at the casket, lost, unable to continue.  As one, Spike and Angel both went to him, and in the midst of their pain, the three men who had loved her best clung to one another, drawing strength from each other, forgetting, at least for the moment, their past hatreds and feuds and becoming united in their moment of grief.

"I don't know if I can stay here," Buffy brokenly murmured.  "I don't know if I can do it.  They're in such pain."

Drusilla touched her cheek as she said, "Yes, Buffy.  They are.  To love someone as deeply as they loved you is to open themselves up to pain, but there isn't one of them who regrets loving you so much or isn't the better for it.  Look at them with your other eyes.  See what it is that you've helped each of them to become.  It may comfort you."

William gave her an encouraging pat on the back, and Buffy shut her eyes, opening them on the same scene once again, but seeing things from the level of her spirit.  She was almost dazzled by the brilliance before her.

Willow's soul reached out over the whole group like a fog of light, joined closely with Tara's, whose gentle radiance reminded Buffy of sunlight on a summer afternoon.  Giles's soul was like a beacon in the night, unwavering and strong.  Xander appeared as a steady stream of luminousness, as did all the other humans, including Anya.  Buffy had wondered if the ex-demon had a soul now, and the question was answered with a definite yes.  Even Cordelia cast a glow around them all.

"She gets my vote for most improved," Darla said approvingly.  "She wasn't so much to look at until about a year ago."

There were three others that were obviously different.  The first two were the vampires.  Spike was still a grey shape, but light kept spiraling through him, sometimes softly diffusing his whole body with a faint light, sometimes concentrating itself around the areas of his heart and brain and gaining in intensity.  Angel, on the other hand, looked like he was in the midst of a battle.  His entire soul was present, but so was his demon, and they seemed to keep trying to swallow one another.  The effect was strange, like a never-ending kaleidoscope of light and dark, and Buffy marveled at his ability to keep waging the war for so long.

The third unusual case was Dawn, who glowed as brightly as all the others, but there was something strange about her.  Bouncing around inside her soul like a tennis ball was a single, neon green sphere.

"Is that… that's the key?"  Buffy asked in disbelief.  "It looks like it was made by Nerf!"

"Don't let its appearance fool you.  It was every bit as powerful as you've been told.  It's dormant now.  Had Glory opened that portal, it would have expanded to cover everything in the universe as you knew it.  We, actually, would have been safe.  There are some things not even it could destroy.  But it would have done horrible damage to countless realities," William explained.

Buffy continued to gaze at her sister, and a very strange thing started to happen.  Suddenly, she began to remember bits of her life from before the monks had created Dawn.  She found herself having two, separate, distinctly different sets of memories: one that included Dawn and one that didn't.  The effect was overwhelming.  It wasn't that her sister appeared any less real to her, but she could recall all the scenes of her existence that had been written over before.

"You're remembering, aren't you?"  Darla said pointedly.

"Yeah," Buffy said in amazement.  "I can remember everything now."

"Everything?"  William's voice asked in a tone that suggested there might be more to this than she first thought.  

On an unknown instinct, Buffy turned her eyes towards the figure of Angel's embattled soul.  It was then that the second set of erased memories slammed into her so hard that she hit the ground.  There weren't as many this time: only a single day.


	14. Chapter 14

Rating:  Still going with PG, although it's a pretty tame PG, at that

Feedback:  Thank you kindly.  Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  Through season five's "The Gift"

Distribution: Here and eventually the Warren.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  Buffy jumped through the portal and died.  But what happened to her next?

Author's Note:  Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story.  Somebody beep Buffy, because the next chapter is finally up!

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Part 14 

"I'll take that as a yes," Darla muttered as she looked at the girl who had suddenly fallen onto the wet grass.

Drusilla and William were already in the midst of helping her to her very unsteady feet as she continued to stare unseeingly at everything around her.

"How… how did that happen?"  she asked urgently.  "How could I forget?  What's wrong with me?"

"Now, now, don't distress yourself, dearie," Drusilla comforted her gently.  "You couldn't possibly have remembered.  The day was erased completely from your memory, just as it was from every other living soul's memory with the exception of his," she said as she nodded in Angel's direction.  It was then that Drusilla's eyes widened in shock.

Angel had sensed something; of that she was certain.  His face was turned directly towards them, almost as though he were trying to see them.  Grief was still written large across his face, but with it now mixed confusion and recognition.  Slowly, she saw him sniff the air, trying to detect the scent of whatever unseen force was present.

William, after making certain that Buffy was once again well enough to stand, had edged uncomfortably away from the others, and he was now standing none too far from Angel.  He, too, noticed the change that came over the vampire's face, and though he was not possessed of Drusilla's extra gifts, he knew at once that Angel was aware of their presence.  Instead of stepping back, he moved closer to the tall man, studying his face almost as though he were planning to paint his portrait.  Whatever he saw there, it didn't settle his mind.

"You lucky sod," he murmured quietly, far out of hearing of anyone.

Angel's eyes continued to sweep the area where Darla and Dru were standing with the still-stricken Buffy, but he could see nothing.

Buffy, however, could.  She could see a night when a long famine of tea and crackers had been broken by a feast of cookie dough mint fudge chip ice cream.  She could see the drowsy, contented look he had given her that morning when her head had lain over his beating heart.  She could see the pain in his face when he told her that all of this would be as though it had never been for everyone but him.  She could see the wild, futile hope in his eyes as he pressed his lips to hers and she vowed never to forget.  

And she could now recognize the agonized, forced vacancy in those same eyes when moments later she had coldly told him they shouldn't see each other again.  It was too much even for her.

"Please," she whimpered quietly, "please, just… get me out of here… please?"

Strangely, it was Darla who took control, moving them in a breath of time from the cemetery to a green, flower-bedecked valley surrounded by towering, snowy mountains.  The Slayer was still holding onto Drusilla's arm, and she had begun to cry once more, tiredly, as though she had forgotten how to do anything but cry.  Drusilla cradled her gently, smoothing her hair back and allowing her to take as much time as she needed, softly whispering her a soothing litany of nonsense words.

Several minutes passed before William rejoined the group.  He had stayed behind with the living long enough to see Angel dismiss his momentary revelation as a figment of grief while the others had lowered the Slayer's body into the ground.  Considering the level of sorrow that had filled the tightly knit group as the first spade of earth had drifted down onto the handmade casket, he couldn't help but think that Buffy's exit had been well timed.  She had seen enough unhappiness in her life without having to witness her loved ones crying tears she couldn't dry.  Responding to his own thought, he produced a simple white cotton handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to Buffy with a bittersweet smile.

"Much nicer than Kleenex, I think you'll find," he assured her.

Buffy took it gratefully and dabbed at her eyes.  Darla regarded her intently from a handful of paces away, oddly quiet.  She was remembering her own time with Angel, a few brief moments that could have stretched on for days or weeks, perhaps even months before her eventual death if fate and a certain law firm hadn't intervened.  Drusilla caught her look from above Buffy's bowed head, and the brunette's face crinkled in sadness.  She had fought extremely hard with her other self that night, desperate to keep her from siring the woman before her, but the vampire's profound loneliness had won.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed at the deceptively fragile-looking soul before her, but Darla dismissed her guilt with a casual wave of her hand.

Buffy had calmed somewhat now.  She sat on the grass wearily, plucking buttercups and thoughtlessly dismantling them between her fingers.  William was soon seated beside her.

"Are you alright?"

"Why didn't he just tell me?"  She had passed from sadness into anger with lightening quick speed.  "I could have done something!  We could have…"

William shook his head sadly at her.  "No, Buffy.  There's really nothing you could have done.  Angel made a tremendous sacrifice, there's no doubt of that, and yes, perhaps it would have been better if he had spoken to you first before settling on his course of action, but he was only trying to protect you.  And he did."  He paused briefly before adding, "It was difficult for him, but it was right."

"Yeah.  Right.  You know, sometimes, 'right' really, really stinks," she complained bitterly.

"Yes, I suppose it does," William agreed.

"No argument here," Darla added half to herself.

For several minutes, the group simply stayed where they were, each pondering his or her own melancholy thoughts dismally.  The occasional bird trill seemed completely out of place, and perhaps mirroring the group's mood, a few clouds obscured the sunlight, casting a grayish tinge on the verdant hillside.   No one seemed able to break the silence, for no one had the heart to.  No one, that is, except…

"Hey!  You guys left me behind!  Took me forever to catch up.  So, what did you think?  Geez, you like, saved the world; couldn't they have popped for something a little nicer than cheap, pink-dyed carnations?  Talk about tacky…"

Four heads swiveled as one towards the ditz, various expressions of total disbelief scrawled on their faces.  And then, it happened.

Buffy started to giggle.   It was the smallest sound at first, a mostly-swallowed sniffling that began from her nose and threatened to boil over to her mouth.  When the tremors of laughter shook her belly, she exploded into a chorus of guffaws that proved highly contagious as the other three slowly gave way to their own chuckles.

"What?  What'd I say?"

By this time Buffy had fallen over completely and was grasping her sides as they ached, rolling about helplessly until her head banged against William's knee and she left it nestled there as peals of laughter continued to escape her.  Thankfully, due to everyone else's merriment, William's abrupt intake of breath and sudden coughing attack were overlooked completely.

"Nothing at all, Harmony sweetheart," Drusilla managed to choke out at last.  "So, you enjoyed the nail polish, I see?"

"Hmm?  Oh, yeah!  See?" she said wiggling her violet fingernails before her.  "Goes perfectly with the dress, too.  It's so hard to decide what to wear to a funeral when you're already dead, don't you think?"

Darla bit her lip quite hard in response as she looked at the others pleadingly.

"Yes, well, I can see the dilemma there, I suppose," William tactfully interposed, trying to change the topic before Darla imploded from trying to restrain her frustration.  "How are things going with that new arrival you were showing around? What was his name?"

"Jose.  He just got turned in Columbia two weeks ago.  Adjusting pretty well, though. And such a babe!"  she squealed happily.  "He totally dotes on me.  Kinda like you and Buffy.  Well, maybe not that much.  I mean, you're completely in love with her an stuff.  But him and me and you and her should double date some time!  It'd be so much fun!"

William was suddenly much paler than Spike.  "I… um… that is…"

Buffy's head had immediately snapped up from the ground.  "What?"

His face now having progressed from paper white to beet red, William was suddenly highly interested in the botanical structure of a nearby violet.  Harmony looked on in complete cluelessness, which was actually her normal expression.  Buffy was regarding William with disbelief.

At long last, Darla rolled her eyes skyward and practically hollered, "You can't possibly be that stupid!  Of course he's in love with you!  He's been in love with you for two and a half years!  For crying out loud, William, you were tucked away alone with her for the whole night, and you still didn't tell her?  Why did you think Dru and I cleared out to begin with?"  

"Darla…" Drusilla interrupted quietly.

"I get that you're shy!  I get that you're a Victorian romantic who swoons over things like the shape of her wrist bone and the size of her front teeth!  I get that the one and only kiss you ever got when you still had a heartbeat was immediately followed by you falling down dead!  But, William, for pity's sake…"

"Darla!" Drusilla fairly screamed, sounding surprisingly like her other self for a moment.  "Leave him in peace!"

But it was far too late.  The place where William had sat only moments before was nothing but empty air now.  He had completely disappeared.

"You know something, Dar?" Harmony said in a superior tone.  "Sometimes, you can really put your foot in your mouth."


	15. Chapter 15

Rating:  Still going with PG, although it's a pretty tame PG, at that

Feedback:  Thank you kindly.  Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  Through season five's "The Gift"

Distribution: Here and eventually the Warren.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  Buffy jumped through the portal and died.  But what happened to her next?

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you. Part 15 

Mouth agape, Buffy looked from the slightly self-righteous Harmony to the obviously angry Drusilla and then the suddenly uncomfortable Darla in quick succession.

"Darla," Drusilla whispered in a voice that was teetering on the edge of control, "that was completely uncalled for."

Darla opened her mouth to reply, but the brunette gave her a warning look and she closed it once again.  

"Buffy and I need to have a few minutes alone. Excuse us," Drusilla said in a commanding tone as she strode purposefully towards the slayer and helped her to her feet, slipping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her away from the others.

No sooner had the two of them begun to walk than the valley was quickly replaced by a spring garden.  Lilacs in full bloom stretched in rows for as far as the eye could see, roses of pink and white and yellow nodded their heads sleepily in the warm breeze, and the perfume of lilies of the valley and violets filled Buffy's nose.  Butterflies danced lightly over the flowers, and the dull hum of large, fuzzy bumblebees followed her down the white gravel path.  Taking note of a large hammock stretched between two blossoming cherry trees, Buffy quickly realized this must be the garden that Drusilla sometimes rested in that William had mentioned earlier.  For quite a while, she silently followed where Drusilla led.  A look at the other woman's face told her in an instant that she was composing herself after the scene with Darla.

At length, the two of them entered through a gap in a box hedge and found themselves in the midst of a rectangle of green grass surrounding a small reflection pool.  An ornate, carved-stone bench stood by its edge, and Drusilla motioned for Buffy to sit beside her on it.  

"Now, you mustn't think I'm upset at all with you, dearie," Drusilla began gently, patting Buffy's hand calmingly.  "I'm afraid I let my temper get the best of me for a moment back there.  Darla spoke out of turn."

 "Yeah, I kinda got that," Buffy answered carefully.  "So, um, what she said…"

"Is entirely true," Drusilla finished for her.  "Yes, William does have feelings for you.  Very deep ones, truth be told.  But it should have been he that told you, not Darla.  William still carries some, well, scars is perhaps the best word to use."

Buffy frowned into the pool, barely taking the time to notice that it mirrored both her and the usually reflection-free Drusilla.  "I see."

"No, dear heart, I don't believe you do," Drusilla sighed softly.  "And I'm not really the one to explain all of this, but that's not why I brought you here.  William is very, very dear to me, Buffy.  When he first came here, he was so completely distraught that almost nothing could calm him.  I tried to help ease the transition for him, but considering I was the last thing his human eyes had seen, it was a long time before he began to feel comfortable with me.  Eventually, though, he became one of the strongest souls here, and I couldn't have asked for a kinder or more gentle friend."

"Really?" Buffy asked, startled.  "I mean, William is sweet and all that, but… strong?"

"Don't let his shy ways fool you.  That soul has a heart as brave as a lion and determination to match.  After the shock wore off, he delved more deeply into Spike than many of us would ever have dared with our own other selves, and from that he was able to save many, many lives that would otherwise have been lost to the demon.  Not all his battles were victories, of course, and when he failed his agony, both physical and mental, was particularly intense.  It never stopped him, though.  That's why bits of him have bled through into Spike."

Buffy played absent-mindedly with the hem of her skirt as she tried to understand all of this, and then it slowly dawned on her.  "When I saw that look in Spike's eyes, the one I've seen in William's sometimes here, that was his soul, wasn't it?"

Drusilla nodded.  "There have been times when William has almost completely inhabited Spike again, even though it may have been only for a few minutes or even seconds.  William always stayed close to Spike.  His affection for me helped make the feelings between the other me and Spike far stronger than most vampire bonds for all those years."

"So, you two, you're not," Buffy began hesitantly.

Drusilla laughed happily.  "No, no.  William is more like my brother than anything else, and I love him dearly, but I am not in love with him, nor he with me."

"Oh, because, well, you know, the other set of you were pretty tight."

"Um, yes, that they were," Drusilla said as she blushed slightly more pink than a nearby rhododendron.  

"Sorry.  Didn't mean to embarrass you or anything," Buffy apologized quickly.

"Oh, that's alright, Buffy.  It's a perfectly natural question to ask," Drusilla said, though she was still a bit flustered.  "In any case, my feelings for William are part of why I've brought you here."

"They are?"

"Yes," Drusilla answered, drawing herself up straighter and looking at Buffy steadily.  "I suppose you would call this the 'shovel talk'."

Buffy blinked rapidly.  "Huh?"

"William is a dear friend of mine and has a beautiful heart, but he's also very vulnerable where you are concerned.  It would be easy for you to hurt him.   I'm asking you not to do that."

Buffy regarded the other woman for a long moment.  "Dru, you don't have to worry about that, I promise.  I kind of get the feeling William has had his heart stomped on a few times?"

"Considering his first love humiliated him, told him he was beneath her because his family wasn't wealthy, and treated him as though he were something nasty stuck to the bottom of her over-priced shoes and his second love killed him less than five minutes after they first met, I don't think it's an exaggeration to say yes," Drusilla agreed sadly.

"Whoa.  His love life has been about as rocky as mine," Buffy responded with a sympathetic gulp.

Drusilla nodded as she put a stray curl back over Buffy's shoulder.  "I can sense him, of course.  He's dreadfully upset and deeply embarrassed, and he's gone off by himself, remembering all of those old hurts and feeling old scars bleed."

"Can you show me where he is?" she asked quietly.

Drusilla smiled broadly, pleased with her question.  "Close your eyes, and I'll send you to him."

"Thank you."

With that, Buffy shut her eyes, and when she opened them, Drusilla was left sitting in her garden, quite alone except for the singing of a meadowlark.

"I do hope I shan't need that shovel," she mumbled to herself as she climbed into her hammock, more than ready for a long nap.  "I've never been entirely certain what one is supposed to do with it."  She paused.  "Although, perhaps, I could get in a bit of practice with Darla."


	16. Chapter 16

Rating:  Still going with PG, although it's a pretty tame PG, at that

Feedback:  Thank you kindly.  Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  Through season five's "The Gift"

Distribution: Here and eventually the Warren.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  Buffy jumped through the portal and died.  But what happened to her next?

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you. Author's Note:  Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Part 16 

Buffy wasn't exactly sure where she had been expecting to find William, but this certainly wasn't it.  This was no flower-strewn valley or wood-paneled library.  It was… nothing.  For a long moment, Buffy was not even certain if she had opened her eyes because everything was so dark.  Then, very slowly, she started to make out dim shapes in the blackness, like smudges of deep gray on ebony.

She was in what seemed to be a room in a house from long ago, perhaps when William was alive.  There was no detail in it, though.  She could make out walls and the openings of windows, the forms of chairs and tables, all without color.  The only bit of light that was in the room came from a fireplace.  A few embers lay dying in the grate, casting the smallest of glows, and before them, sitting in one of the strangely blank chairs, his back to her, was William.

Somehow, the stillness in the room made her even more nervous.  It was obvious that William was lost in his thoughts, and she felt she was intruding, but she was not about to leave him like this.  She began to walk towards the seated figure, making certain that her footsteps broke the silence.

From the moment the first noise reached his ears, William's posture stiffened defensively, but he did not turn around.  When at last Buffy pulled up a chair next to him and sat down, the soul finally looked up at her.

"How did you find me?"

The tone he said it in almost frightened her with its total deadness.  His eyes, usually such a luminous blue, were as faint in light as the fire before them.

"I asked Dru to send me to you," she answered simply, and he blinked as though this was not the answer he had been expecting.

"Where are we, anyway?"  Buffy asked with a note of distaste.  The place was far from her liking.

William looked around them as though taking in the surroundings for the first time, then laughed without the slightest trace of happiness.  "Well, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.  Missing a lot of the details, of course, because I wasn't concentrating on them, but this is," he paused for a long moment, searching for the right words.  "It's a place where I was quite unhappy as a human.  All it needs are the mocking ladies and gentlemen of distinction and the sounds of a string quartet."

Buffy couldn't pretend to understand any of this, but she could tell in a glance that William was deeply uncomfortable and sad.

"Look, what Darla said," Buffy began to say, but she broke off, not exactly knowing how to proceed.

"Go on," he said softly, his face glued to the dying fire before them.  "I have never lied to you, Buffy, and I never will.  Ask whatever you wish."

The shadows created by the fire skittered about his face, making him look remarkably like a statue.  The slayer studied him for a long moment before finally asking the question.

"William, is what Darla said true?"

He sighed deeply before answering.  "Not exactly."

Buffy's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I've been in love with you for three and a half years, not two and a half.  Darla never was much for mathematics.  Of course, she wasn't on this level back then, so perhaps it can be excused."

He looked down to the floor and said no more as Buffy did the mental calculations.  He'd been in love with her since the first time she'd met Spike?

"Will you look at me for a minute?" she asked carefully, and he raised his head from its lowered position until he was turned towards her.  "I'm getting the feeling there's more to this story than you've told me.  What exactly happened?"

A small frown appeared on William's face as he shut his eyes a bit before he answered.  When he looked at her once more, the guarded look was gone, and the expression that replaced it was one she remembered from the moments when Spike was his most human.

"I was along with Spike, as usual, when he came to Sunnydale.  My influence with him was better than most souls have over their other selves, but I was still mostly helpless against anything he planned.  That night at the Bronze, I was there."  He took a deep breath.  "My God, Buffy, do you have any idea how beautiful your soul was that night?  You were like the heart of a diamond, radiating fire, warmth, perfection itself.  From the moment I saw you, I was unable to think of anything else.  It was like finding a missing part of me.  I was in love with you completely at a glance."

His eyes held her own, and she realized that there were tears forming in the sapphire depths, but he refused to let them fall.

"Spike, of course, saw nothing but another Slayer to kill at first," he continued with a note of anger in his voice, "and there was nothing I could do to keep him from that raid on the school or cornering you on Halloween night.  I was in agony over it all.  When at last Spike was forced into a wheelchair, I had a bit of a chance.  The weaker the demon was, the more I was able to insinuate myself into him.  By the time Liam returned here, Spike was starting to be more open to my suggestions until finally, when Angelus attempted opening Acathla, I was able to convince him to go to you."

"You've been having talks back and forth with Spike?" Buffy said in confusion.  "He was, like, hearing voices or something?"

"No," William answered patiently.  "I started to become a part of him, in a way.  It was like the smallest possible bit of his conscience was returning.  But it became more pronounced as time went on."

"So, if when Spike gets weaker, you get stronger, then the chip…" she began, starting to figure things out.

"Exactly.  It began to muzzle the demon inside so effectively that more and more bits of me started to seep through.  It took almost a full year for me to become deeply rooted enough in him to send him the dream that made him realize I was in love with you.  Strangely enough, the demon had been having… feelings… for you as well, though they were of a, ehm, less than pure variety, shall we say?  As soon as that happened, more bricks in the wall that kept me out of Spike started to crumble."

"That night," Buffy said slowly, "on the back porch, when my mom was so sick…"

William nodded.  "Yes.  I was really quite concerned that he was going to kill you that time.  You see, it was only when I could convince him in his own mind of the love he felt for you that I was able to have some degree of control.  The conversation from earlier in the evening had plugged into a lot of my worst memories and had begun convincing him that what he felt for you was worthless and foolish and bound to end in disaster.  But when he saw you in distress… when I saw you…"  His words drifted off painfully, and he looked away.

"You kept popping up from time to time from then on, didn't you?"  Buffy said wonderingly.  "When Tara was crazy, when my mom died, when Glory was torturing Spike, that last night at the house."

"'You make me feel like a man,' I believe he said, and he had no idea how close he was to the truth.  So, there it is, just as I promised you.  The truth.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be going," he said, standing abruptly.

"Why?"

"I'm aware of the fact that I have made an utter fool of myself.  Or rather, Darla did it for me, but the result is still the same," he responded without turning.  

A hand fell gently on his shoulder and gently urged him to face her.  Buffy looked up at him with a bittersweet smile on her face.

"Whoever she was, she really messed you up bad, didn't she?  William, has it occurred to you that you might, just might, possibly have even the smallest of chances with me?" she asked with a little smirk.

"Ehm, no," he said in surprise.  "No, of course not."

"And why not?"

"Well, there's Angel for one thing," he explained uncertainly.

"Yes, there's Angel," Buffy said in agreement.  "But, as much as I love him, and as much as I always will, we both made the decision that things weren't meant to be between us.  Considering we're no longer even on the same plain of existence, I'd say there were insurmountable odds, wouldn't you?"

William's jaw dropped in bewilderment.  "Huh?"

Buffy's eyes rolled as she let a smile break over her lips.  "I've dated two other men since Angel, although, honestly, they were both mondo disasters.  I came to the conclusion a long time ago that I wasn't going to spend eternity waiting for him, and I'm not going to do that now that eternity has literally turned into eternity."

William looked at her as though she'd started spontaneously doing summersaults while reciting the collected works of Milton and juggling llamas.  

"You're just not getting this, are you?  Look, when I was on earth and Spike would do those kind things for me, let his eyes tell me everything that was in his heart without saying a single word, I thought I was going crazy because I felt myself just barely starting to fall for someone who was a vicious killer.  Now that I find out that the soul behind those eyes isn't a homicidal maniac, well, you get the picture."

"You're saying I have a chance?  You might possibly at some point in the far distant future perhaps…"

"Apparently you don't get the picture, wordboy, so I'll give you the remedial version," she said with a mock-irritated pout as she put her arms around his neck and gave him a single, soft kiss on the lips.  "We clear now?"

The smile that greeted her lit up the face of the soul so brilliantly that she was dazzled.  In a heartbeat, everything around her changed.  Lights blazed forth from the ceiling and walls, and the rich, warm colors of the Victorian home around her came to life.  A string quartet began to play a merry waltz, and he grabbed her around the waist, his strong, gentle hands lifting her high into the air in a swift movement that made her laugh hysterically.  He twirled her through the air madly before setting her delicately on her feet and beginning to lead her through the steps of a dance that was equal parts bliss and wonder.  

At long last, their steps slowed and their arms held each other tightly.  Buffy smiled up at William happily as she played with the hair at the base of his neck.  In turn, he softly rubbed the length of her back, his eyes warm.

"I do love you, you know," he whispered quietly in her ear.  "Forever.  I know you don't feel quite the same way, not yet.  But if you'll give me time…"

She laughed once again, wrinkling her nose at him.  "I like what I've seen so far.  I like lots.  And we have plenty of time," she murmured as she began to pull his head downwards into another kiss.

"Oh, blast!  Time!  Of all the moronic idiots!  Buffy, we need to discuss your situation, why you're here, and all that.  I'd almost completely forgotten," he said angrily.

"Discuss later.  Kiss now," she insisted firmly as she put her lips against his.

He sighed contentedly into their second kiss, this one much longer but no less delicious than their first, a slow, perfect embrace that had them sipping each other's lips like ambrosia and then deepening into something more, something that was beginning to speak of passion.  At long last, even though breathing was not a problem, they parted, Buffy giving William's shoulders a parting squeeze.

"We do need to talk about this, though, Buffy.  Perhaps we should return to the others?" he suggested, although he was most reluctant to leave.

She wrinkled up her face in distaste.  "Spoilsport," she accused playfully as they turned to leave.

Silently, William hoped with all his might that the circumstances that had brought her here wouldn't take her from him once again, but he didn't want to be selfish.  For now, he wanted nothing more than the feel of her hand in his as they walked out the front door of Cecily's mansion, the past finally behind him, and went together through a springtime forest that they had just begun to create together as they made their way back to the others.


	17. Chapter 17

Rating:  Still going with PG, although it's a pretty tame PG, at that

Feedback:  Thank you kindly.  Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  Through season five's "The Gift"

Distribution: Fanfiction.net, the Warren, and Fonts of Wisdom's Crypt.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  Buffy jumped through the portal and died.  But what happened to her next?

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you. Part 17 

Buffy and William took their time returning, wandering together contentedly, laughing quietly over small things and generally enjoying each other's company.  By the time they reached the valley where Darla and Harmony still sat, Drusilla had awakened from her nap and rejoined them.

"Um, sorry," Darla mumbled quietly as she saw the pair approaching.  Then she noticed their linked hands.  "Or maybe not."

"Things seemed to have worked out for the best, Darla," William said with a smile.  "Don't let's mention it again, shall we?"

"Mention what?"  Harmony asked as she looked up from what appeared to be the latest issue of Cosmo.  

Drusilla rubbed a hand over her face, but Buffy was fairly certain she heard the faintest of giggles coming from behind the long fingers.

"Oh!   Right!  The thing about William being in love with Buffy. I remember now," she cried with a smile.  "Yeah, so, how'd that go?"

"We're kind of taking it slow, Harm, just seeing where things go," Buffy explained, making sure to use little words.  

"In any case, I believe we should explain to Buffy why she's here. Drusilla, you seem to have the clearest idea of what exactly happened.  Highly irregular, really," he added to Buffy.  "I'm not entirely certain I understand it myself."

"Sit down, my dear," Drusilla suggested kindly as five large beanbag chairs appeared in a circle nearby.  "This may be a little difficult to understand.

"Beanbag chairs?"  Buffy asked in disbelief.  Of all the furniture she'd expected Drusilla to bring about, the tie-dyed rainbow hippie puffs were about the last thing she'd expected.

Drusilla shrugged.  "I liked the sixties.  Flower children and all that.  Anyway," she said as they each settled into a seat, Harmony momentarily tumbling backwards and being yanked back into her beanbag by an incredulous Darla, "I'm sure that by now you've grown quite curious about why you're here rather than heaven."

Buffy considered for a moment.  "It's strange.  I wondered that when I first got here, but it hasn't been on my mind all that much for a while.  Too many other things going on, I guess."

Drusilla nodded understandingly, "Of course.  Well, as William explained, Limbo is inhabited by souls who aren't entirely complete.  A bit of them is still on earth.  There are more of us here than you've met.  A great many people who become vampires stay here until their entire soul is returned to them, allowing them to move on to the next level up."

"But I'm not a vampire,"  Buffy said in confusion, "so what am I doing here?"

"There's a part of you missing," Drusilla explained.  "A very small part, to be sure, but it isn't here."

Buffy blinked in shock.  "I'm not all of me?"

Darla shook her head.  "Nope.  Like Dru said, though, it's sort of like us and our souls.  We aren't complete, either, but we're still us.  There's just a little piece of us missing, not enough to change who we are on this level, but still enough to keep us from being able to move on."

"Wait a minute.  If I'm not a vampire, and part of me isn't here, then you're saying some of my soul is still stuck in my body?" Buffy asked in alarm.  "Part of me is still in that casket I saw buried?"

"No, no," Drusilla reassured her quickly.  "No, you haven't been buried alive or anything of that sort.  The bit of you isn't in your own body."

"Then where?" she asked.

"It's in Dawn," Drusilla answered her.  "When the monks made her, they wanted her to be completely human, not merely an animated doll, and she is an entirely human, mortal girl.  You were quite right when you said that the monks made her out of you, but it was more than that.  One of their emissaries was sent to obtain a sample of your cells so that they could magically replicate them and build a complete human body out of them."

"Dare I ask?"  Buffy questioned nervously.

"It was a bandage," William said.  "You'd scraped a knee on one of your patrols about two years ago.  Their agent simply went through your trash that one night, took the discarded bandage, and sent it to the monks.  The few traces of blood on it were enough."

Huh, Buffy thought silently.  So, technically, Dawn's mother was a Band-Aid.  

"Okay, so I take it they kind of cloned me or something?"  she said aloud.

"Pretty much," Darla agreed.  "I'm not big on the science thing, but that's not what this is about anyway.  They didn't create Dawn in a lab.  They used magic."

"I'm with you so far, but what's with the soul thing?"

"Remember how I said that the soul wants to stay near its body, and that's why vampires wind up with taffy left in the wrapper?"  William asked.

"Yeah," Buffy said slowly.

"The monks cast a spell once they'd created the body for Dawn," Drusilla said.  "Since they wanted her to be truly human, they knew they'd need a soul for her, but you can't just create a soul out of nothing or even from cells.  So, they tricked a very small part of your soul into believing Dawn was you, which wasn't hard to do since the two of you, though the monks made sure you don't look alike, have identical cell structures.  Once they had a bit of your soul, they were able to make it increase, just like the cells from the bandage, until they had an entire, separate human soul for her.  Even so, though, that small spark of yours clung to the body that it still thinks is you.  It's like Dawn has one, tiny, extra bit of soul."

"And that bit just happens to be yours," Darla added.

Buffy's mind was whirling.  This was starting to be deep into Giles-territory, but she thought she understood most of it.

"Okay, so, if I've got this right, Dawn has part of my soul, but she's not really using it?  It's just sort of stuck there?"

"Pretty much," Drusilla said with a nod.

"And I'm here because I can't go on to heaven unless all of me is in one piece, right?"

"Yup," Darla confirmed.

"That means I'm going to be here until,"  Buffy frowned, "until Dawn dies, doesn't it?"

Drusilla shook her head slightly.  "Not quite.  It could mean that, but it doesn't have to."

"You see, Buffy, you have a choice," William said softly.  "There are three things you can do, if I understand correctly."

Drusilla took Buffy's hand and patted it gently, "You can be correct.  You can stay here until the time of natural Dawn's death.  When her soul goes to her final home, yours will come along for the ride, so to speak, and you can leave."

"Just like when a vampire is staked,"  Darla said.

"But you have two other options," Drusilla continued.  "Now that you know what the situation is, if you choose to, you can go to Dawn and call that part of yourself back to you.  If you consciously call that piece of your soul to return, it will come.  Dawn will experience no side effects because she has her own soul now, but you will be complete and can move on from here.

"Okay," she said, not sure how to respond to this yet.  "What's the third option?"

"You can choose to return to earth as a human, as well," Drusilla said slowly.  "Because your spirit hasn't crossed over completely, you have the chance to go back and return to them.  It's an extremely rare case.  I've never seen anything like it, but it is possible."

"But, my body is dead," Buffy reasoned.  "I don't get it."

"Your body is only dead because there is no soul in it,"  Drusilla explained.  "You didn't die from a normal situation.  There was no illness or physical injury.  When you jumped into the portal, it killed you simply by removing your soul from your body, nothing more.  That's part of why this is so unique.  Even the damage from the fall, which would have killed any normal mortal, wasn't severe enough to end a Slayer's life.  If you want to return to human existence, all you would need to do is allow your soul to reinhabit your body.  Since the soul is drawn to the body anway, that wouldn't be too difficult.  You'd just have to will it to happen."

"And, I'd wake up," Buffy finished for her.

"In a coffin, yes, but the physical effects of your death would reverse.  Since you died through soul-removal, the return of your soul would heal anything that caused," Drusilla said.

"There's a catch, though, and it's one we only know about because of Liam," William added.  "You won't remember this place."

Buffy's head shot towards him quickly.  "What?"

"For some reason, the memory of this place stays here," Darla said.  "When you sent Angel to hell?  You didn't.  He was here."

"But… when Angel came back, he remembered hell perfectly," Buffy insisted.  "He was completely traumatised."

"I assure you, Buffy, he was here with us during that time.  The man you loved was not sent to hell.  The demon was, though.  You see, you didn't kill either Angelus or Angel.  A sword through the heart wouldn't do that, only wood, which is why the Powers were able to bring him back.  Angelus, the demon, along with Angel's body, did go to hell.  Liam, Angel's soul, after a few moments back in your reality, was returned here.  Neither time with the gypsy curse was Angel able to remember this place, and when his body was sent to hell, his soul, which of course had done nothing to warrant that horrible place, came here.  It isn't the way of the universe to send an innocent soul to hell.  It just doesn't happen that way,"  Drusilla soothed her.  "You need never have blamed yourself for that."

"But, the memories?" Buffy asked, her mind reeling.

"Take a wild, guess, sweetie,"  Darla said with a smile.  "Go ahead.  I think you'll get it." 

Buffy thought hard for a moment, and then it finally occurred to her.  "When Angel's soul went back into his body the first time, he didn't remember this place, but he did remember everything Angelus had done.  So, when he was returned again, his soul forgot this place, but it still had all the demon's memories?"  she ventured.

"Exactly.  But since Angel had no memories to replace them with, he assumed that was where he had been,"  Drusilla told her.  "When those memories hit him, it was as though he'd actually lived them."

"So, if I return, I won't remember this place," she said to half to herself.

"You may remember a vague feeling of being safe and happy, not unlike the people who come here very briefly when they have near-death experiences, but that will be all," William explained.  

"Those are your options, Buff.  Stay here until Dawn dies, move on now, or go back to Sunnyhell," Darla summed up.  "You don't have to decide right away, though.  Eventually, in a few months, it'll be too late to go to earth again.  Upset the natural order too much.  But you have some time."

Buffy nodded numbly.  This was a whole lot to take in, she thought.  Just as she was about to open her mouth to ask another question, a loud snore interrupted her.

Four sets of eyes turned to the soul of Harmony Kendall, sprawled across her beanbag, sound asleep.

"Ahem, yes, well, that's one opinion on the matter," William said as his mouth fought hard against letting out the huge laugh that was on the tip of his tongue.  

The tension slightly lessened, Buffy smiled at the others.

"Thanks.  I've got a lot to think about, but I'm going to make a decision sooner rather than later.   Is a month okay?"  she asked Dru.

"That should be more than fine, Buffy.  Until then, sift things over in your mind until you're completely comfortable with your choice.  Once you've left here, there's no coming back, so be certain," Drusilla cautioned her.

Buffy nodded slowly, the enormity of the situation a bit overwhelming.  Thankfully, Harmony took that moment to fall off her beanbag, landing with a loud thud and coming completely awake, her face a mask of guilty.

"I was awake!  Really!  Dru liked the sixties because of the flower children!" she said quickly.

That was it.  In spite of themselves, the four other souls began to laugh, and the one who was currently lying on the grass joined in as well.


	18. Chapter 18

Rating:  Still going with PG, although it's a pretty tame PG, at that

Feedback:  Thank you kindly.  Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  Through season five's "The Gift"

Distribution: Fanfiction.net, the Warren, and Fonts of Wisdom's Crypt.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  Buffy jumped through the portal and died.  But what happened to her next?

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you. 

Author's Note:  It may take a couple week for the chapter after this to go up.

Part 18 

The days passed by slowly in Limbo, but they were far from boring.  Buffy was slowly introduced to the other inhabitants of the plain, most of whom seemed to already know Drusilla and the others quite well.  The Slayer quickly became adept at helping those souls whose other selves were feeding, her patience with their problem surprising even herself.  A few times, on days when several newly-sired souls arrived at once, Drusilla even asked Buffy's help in aquainting them with their new home.

Harmony continued to flutter in and out of their existences, but Darla, Drusilla, and William had become Buffy's almost constant companions.  Drusilla was extremely easy to like, Buffy found.  Inside of a week, she felt as though they had known each other for years.  Darla, while certainly more prickles and thorns than the sweet Cockney girl, had become a surprisingly good friend, as well.  They fought quite loudly sometimes, but it was fun.  Buffy became aware very soon that the other woman was quite a bit like her in many ways that extended far beyond hair color.  

It was William, though, who she most often spent time with.  When she chose to visit earth again and keep an eye on her friends and sister, which she did on a daily basis, he would usually accompany her.  When the mourning of those she loved became too much for her, it was his shoulder she would bury her head in and his arms that held her close in comfort.   

One warm California morning, Buffy decided to look in on Dawn by herself.  In a moment, she had sent herself to the Summers' living room, and there sat Dawn on the couch, a large pillow drawn up to her chest, crying softly.  This was one of the things that Buffy found hardest to deal with.  With tears in her own eyes, she joined her sister on the couch, unseen, and sent her as much mental comfort as she could.   No sooner had she settled herself than Willow and Tara came down the staircase behind her, ready to begin the day.

"Dawny?"  Tara asked in concern.  "Are you okay?"

"No," Dawn answered bluntly.  "No, I'm not"

Willow and Tara exchanged concerned looks as the redhead quickly moved to sit next to Dawn, wrapping an arm around her, while the blonde perched on the coffee table in front of her and took one of the hands clutching the pillow in her own.

"This has been hard for you, I know," Willow said sadly.  "Your mom, Buffy, everything, but you need to know you're okay.  You're safe.  No will hurt you, and Tara and I will always take care of you."

"And Mr. Giles and Xander and Spike, they're all looking out for you, too," Tara assured her before adding,  "and, well, Anya, she tries, and she likes you a lot."

Dawn nodded her head, but a tear still escaped from the corner of her eye.  Willow's face crinkled in sympathy.  In truth, she missed her best friend almost as badly.  Buffy, invisible to all three of them, felt her heart breaking all over again.  It was Tara who broke the silence, and the usually silent girl spoke with a kindness that reminded Buffy poignantly of Drusilla's soul.

"Dawn, you've been really, really brave through all of this, a lot braver than anyone could ever have expected you to be," she said simply.  "I'm not going to tell you that the pain is going to just go away in a few days or week or months, because it's not, but I can tell you're growing stronger again.  I can feel it humming around you in your aura, and I can see it when there are moments your eyes don't look so haunted.  And Dawn, whether you know it or not, those moments are starting to happen more often."

"It still hurts, though," she answered as her face melted into a new set of tears.  "Tara, it just hurts so much!"

Buffy wrapped an arm around her sister's neck protectively, caressing the girl's soul, as Willow did the same on the opposite side of her body.  She realized that all four of them were crying now.

"I know, Dawn," Willow said.  "It's not fair, and it's not natural."

Tara shook her head and the others looked at her in surprise.  "No, Willow.  It is natural, and it is fair.  Dawn, Buffy loved you so much that she was willing to give her life for yours, and that gift was truly beautiful.  All her life she's given to others in one way or another:  her time, her innocence, her spirit, she gave them to whoever needed them.  In just a few years on this earth, she did more for others than most people do in a whole lifetime.  And now, after all of that, she finally gets to rest.  She's earned that right."

Dawn looked up at Tara with an uncertain expression on her face as she asked, "Are you sure?  You're sure she's happy?  How can you know?"

Tara sighed softly and touched Dawn's cheek, "Some things you don't know, Dawn.  Some things you just have to believe, and I really believe that wherever Buffy is, she's fine, just like I really believe that we're going to be fine, too.  It's okay to mourn, Dawn.  It's okay to feel that.  But eventually, when the time is right, you'll know that part of your life you had with her, as wonderful as it is and as much as you'll always love her, has come to a close, and now it's time for you to find out what life holds for you next."

Buffy stared at Tara in shock.  Only moments ago, she had been nearly certain that the only way to deal with things was to resume her life on earth in spite of the fact that in her heart she felt that wasn't the best choice for her.  But she felt as though Tara's words had lifted a tremendous weight from her back.  She was where she needed to be, and her friends were where they needed to be.  She could look in on them, guide them, protect them as best she could from her new vantage point, but it didn't feel right to return to them in human form, not anymore.  Her home was somewhere else now.

Dawn looked up at Tara and smiled at her as Willow drew her into a hug.  Her sister's face held a look of resolve, a certainty that things, no matter how difficult they might still be, were going to be okay.  Buffy brushed her hand over her sister's cheek as though to wipe away the tears, and then, giving her a kiss on the forehead and a smile to the two witches she knew would protect Dawn to their last breath, Buffy returned to Limbo with a much lighter heart.  Her decision was made.

She never saw the determined, almost cruel look that crossed Willow's face.

Buffy didn't need to ask Drusilla where to find William now.  Instinctively, she brought herself to his study, and sure enough, there was the soul with his nose buried deeply in a book, his glasses so far down his nose they were in danger of sliding off completely.

"_A Tale of Two Cities_ again?" she asked conversationally as she sat beside him on the leather-upholstered sofa.

He grinned at her sheepishly as he closed the book.  "Yes.  How were things down there?"

She stood and reached out a hand towards him, drawing him to his feet, and he had the strangest feeling when he saw her expression.

"I want you to take a walk with me," she said softly as she laced his fingers through her own.

William nodded and became absolutely certain in that moment that she had made her decision, but what it was he didn't know.  She took control of the atmosphere around them and slowly brought into being a beautiful, long, gravel pathway lined with stately plum trees in full bloom.  The sunlight dappled the ground they walked on, and white petals drifted gracefully about them like enormous snowflakes.  She took his arm and they walked together for a long time, the sweet smell of the blossoms filling their noses, until at last William felt he couldn't bare it another moment.

"I've decided," she said suddenly, her voice almost loud in the perfect stillness.

"Buffy," he asked quietly, "is this to be my last walk with you?"

She stopped walking and brought her hands to his face, tenderly caressing his cheek. "I choose you."

"But," he said, "but Buffy, you can have heaven!  Absolute bliss!  All you need to do is will it, and it's yours."

"I know, and someday, we'll both have that.  If Spike dies before Dawn, I'll call my soul to me and join you there.  If Dawn is first, then I'll wait for you on the other side, just like you waited for me here.  For however long we have together, William, I want to be with you," she confessed almost shyly.

William's eyes pricked with tears at her words, and he drew even closer to her.  "You're sure?  You're completely sure this is what you want?"

She smiled up at him warmly, her eyes full of emotion as she finally said the words he'd never dared to hope he'd hear, "I love you."

"And I love you," he said as he moved his mouth over hers, their lips meeting and opening and accepting and touching and tasting in ways neither of them had ever dreamed were possible.

When at last the kiss ended, as all kisses must, Buffy and William looked into one another's eyes once more.  She took his hand in hers again, leading him off the path and into a small, closely planted grove of trees.  There, spread beneath the flowering boughs, was a massive, petal-strewn canopy bed covered in golden linens.  William's eyes widened for a moment as the obvious occurred to him, and he barely believed what he was seeing.

"Buffy," he whispered softly,  "this isn't some sweet dream?  I'm not going to wake and find I'm alone again and you don't even know I exist?"

"When you wake up," she promised as she sank with him into the softness of the satin pillows, her fingers slowly opening the buttons of his shirt, "I'm going to be beside you.  Forever."

Though they weren't in heaven, neither could imagine an ecstacy greater than they felt with one another at that moment.  It was perfection.

But it was fated to last far less than forever.


	19. Chapter 19

Rating:  Actually upped it to PG-13, although it's a ridiculously tame PG-13

Feedback:  Thank you kindly.  Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  Through season five's "The Gift"

Distribution: Fanfiction.net, the Warren, and Fonts of Wisdom's Crypt.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  Buffy jumped through the portal and died.  But what happened to her next?

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you. 

Author's Note:  Only one more after this.  Sorry this one took so long to write, but it is significantly longer than most of the other chapters.

Part 19 

A few months later, Darla, Drusilla, and Harmony were spending a fairly relaxed evening in a small, white gazebo with vines of trailing violet clematis growing up the sides.  All three of their other selves had already fed, so the prospect of a night free of pain was pleasantly possible.  Still, as had happened from time to time lately, there were two figures missing from their group.

"Dru?  You seen Buffy or William around today?"  Harmony asked off-handedly as she made her shoes turn various shades of blue until she found exactly the right hue to match her dress.

"No, Harmony, dear," Drusilla answered with a smile.  "I heard Buffy was down to check on Sunnydale earlier and William was getting Matthew and Cynthia adjusted to Limbo, but they haven't been around for the last few hours.  I'm absolutely certain they're just fine."

"Huh.  If you say so," she said with good nature as she experimented with different heights for her heels.  "Wonder what they've been up to by themselves so much lately."

Darla gripped the sides of her lounge chair very hard to avoid asking the pretty girl precisely how dumb she was.  She finally managed to grind out, "They've taken up table tennis, Harm.  World championship level table tennis."

"Really?  Weird, but whatever makes them happy," she said, smiling down at her baby blue stilettos.  

Darla mouthed something to Dru over Harmony's head that looked suspiciously like "are you sure we can't kill her?"  Drusilla bit her lip to hide a giggle but eventually took pity on the girl.

"Darla is only joking with you.  William and Buffy want to spend some time together now that they've found one another," Drusilla explained in as a vague a way as she could.

Even so, the light bulb went off over Harmony's head, and she nodded conspiratorially at the others, whispering, "Oh, I got ya."

It happened that William and Buffy chose that particular moment to wander up to the gazebo together, and Darla couldn't help but admire their timing.  

"Hello, Buffy, William.  How was Sunnydale today?" asked Dru quickly, and Darla caught the smallest note of strain in her friend's voice.

"Pretty much okay, but I still can't seem to find Willow.  Wonder where she keeps going," Buffy replied with a slight frown as she and William joined the others.

Though Drusilla said nothing more, her face darkened for a moment.  Something about Sunnydale had been bothering her, and while there was surely no cause for alarm, the fact remained that Buffy had been having difficulty locating Willow on her frequent visits.  She'd even asked Drusilla with her a few times, hoping that the soul's psychic abilities might be able to locate the redhead, but instead, all she had been able to sense was absence.  She didn't want to risk causing the former Slayer any distress over nothing, but she had kept a close eye out for the Wiccan and finally had come to a conclusion.

It wasn't that Willow was lost.  Willow was hiding.  The girl had cast some sort of blocking spell around herself that was keeping her movements from being known by anyone.  Normally, this would have only affected the living, but the mere fact that the glamour was so strong that it was able to completely cover Willow from Drusilla's considerable Sight was a bit worrying.  The girl was becoming entirely too powerful.

William, the gentleman as ever, noticed her distress and cast a concerned look at his old friend.  "Drusilla, is something troubling you?  Has your other self been causing you problems?"

"No more than usual," she said with a shudder.  "But, Buffy, I'm afraid I must broach a rather disturbing topic.  It's about Willow.  I think that…"

Drusilla abruptly stopped speaking, her mouth slightly slack, her eyes unfocused.  For a moment, she was perfectly still.  And then, without warning, her eyes rolled back in their sockets as an ear-splitting shriek tore from her throat.  The sound seemed to rend the air itself, filling their ears like fiery arrows.  Her skin was instantly covered with a sheen of cold sweat.

"This is no feed," Darla said in a voice full of horror.

Falling from her chair, Drusilla's slight body shook uncontrollably, and her mouth began to froth, spilling ugly white foam down her chin in a torrent.  William was on her in a moment, desperately trying to still her flailing arms so she wouldn't harm herself.  Harmony, Buffy, and Darla stared in shock at the scene before them.  The delicate form of their friend was contorted into an agony that made her usual tremors seem like child's play.  William was flung from her suddenly, his body smashing through the thin wooden slats of the gazebo and reducing them to matchwood.  

As quickly as they had begun, the spasms running through Drusilla stopped, but the stillness was somehow worse.  Her form was sprawled across the ground, her chest heaved as though she had just run a marathon, and Buffy cautiously approached her head, reaching out a hand to touch her clammy face.

"Dru?  Hon, you okay?" Darla asked in concern.

Drusilla opened her eyes and looked at Buffy with absolute knowledge, and when she spoke, her tone chilled them.

"Something evil is coming, and it's coming for you," she said in a voice tinged with both fear and anger.  

A sound began to become fill the air.  The rumbling was slight, at first, but it rapidly grew in intensity until the roar was almost deafening.  It was like one of the earthquakes Buffy remembered from her life, but that shouldn't be able to happen here.  Whatever was going on was utterly against the natural order.  The entire dimension seemed to be coming apart at the seams.  

Without warning, erupting from below them like a spume of lava, a tower of red and black flame burst through the ground before them, spraying them all with bits of debris and soil.  The peaceful garden disappeared in a heartbeat, replaced instantly by a landscape of unyielding rock and skies in angry shades of rust and orange. Other denizens of Limbo turned towards the pillar of swirling ebony and scarlet and fled from it in panic.

"Run!"  Drusilla called to her friends over the maelstrom of chaos and the sound of an evil tempest of wind.  "Get away from it! I'll do what I can!"

They did not need to be told twice.  Swifter than thought, the four of them took off at a run, each one trying desperately to bring another reality into being, and each time finding that reality broken into pieces by the storm that raged around them.  In quick succession, Buffy saw the walls of William's study collapsing around them as though they had been hit with a wrecking ball, the beach's water parching before her eyes and the sand blowing away in the wind, a cloudy sky of pink and peach clouds that must have been a creation of Harmony's dissolved as soon as it formed, and the living room of Revello Drive fell apart like a house of cards as she herself tried to intervene.  Everything led back to the barren wasteland of gray rock, the tower of black and red flames pursuing them at a mind numbing speed no matter where they tried to hide.

As all this went on, Drusilla was far from idle.  With a tremendous show of will, in spite of the echoes of pain that wound through her, she trained all of her gift on finding the origin of the invasion.  It wasn't from this plain.  Of that she was completely certain.  She followed the path of the power that was ripping apart the fabric of universes and came to the place she had most hoped to avoid but had more than half expected to see.

There, standing beside Buffy's grave, were Anya, Xander, and Tara, but Drusilla barely noticed them.  Kneeling at the foot of the plot was Willow, and Drusilla gasped at what she saw.

"Willow," she whispered to herself in disbelief, "what have you done?"

To the mortals present, Willow's tortured form was bathed in a faint red glow, and judging by their expressions the scene was horribly eerie and obviously frightening.  But to Drusilla, who looked at it from the next level, it was far worse, for she saw what was really happening.  The column of red and black fire was passing through Willow, engulfing her in waves of agony, but she was merely focusing it and controlling it.  She was not the source of it.  Had she known where it was coming from, Drusilla hoped that the witch would never have considered the spell at all.

The redhead's soul was very, very dim, nearly as shadowy as the form of a vampire, as it was being drained from the spell.  Her eyes had gone completely black.  A myriad of demons, invisible to the others, swarmed around her, feasting on the flickering light of her soul, threatening to extinguish it completely.  It was only the relative purity of her previous state, the goodness that she had harbored throughout her life, that was preventing them from killing her instantly.  But as nightmarish as the cloud of demons with razor teeth and cruel claws was, it was nothing compared to what lay at the witch's feet.

The fire was not splitting through only two plains.  It was piercing three, for there, at the base of the column, open to the eyes of Drusilla, were the horrors of Hell itself.  No words of any language could describe the place, and she reeled from the sight.

If things continued, not only would Buffy's soul be dragged back into her body, but also Willow's would be stripped away in payment.  For both their sakes, something had to be done.

In a flash, Drusilla was once more in Limbo, standing on the cold, vacant, crumbling rock as the tower of flame pursued the others in the distance.  It was after Buffy and paid no attention to anything else.  That meant the brunette was unnoticed.

Every fiber of her being concentrated with complete attention, and she shut her eyes to block out the distractions around her.  When she lifted her eyelids once more, a startling change had come over her.  Drusilla's eyes burned pure white, and her voice rang forth in tones of power towards the beleaguered sky above.

"I call!  By the gift that was given me, by all that is good and clean and pure, I call upon the Powers That Be!  Intercede!  By those the Slayer has saved and those who have loved her, I beg intercession!  Send us help!"

The words sounded through all the corners of Limbo, and then there was silence.

Meanwhile, Harmony, Darla, and William, each bolstering Buffy's spirit, combining their strengths with hers in order to help her flee the thing pursuing her, continued in their frantic journey.

"Whatever that thing is," Darla complained bitterly, "you've really ticked it off, kid."

Harmony glanced over her shoulder for the thousandth time to see that the pillar was gaining on them and was now only a stone's throw away.  "Oh man, oh man, oh man, we are so cooked!"

William's grip around Buffy's waist tightened even more in response, and their eyes met.  "We're together, my love.  No matter what happens, we'll face it as one."

"No!  We don't know what that thing's capable of.  Dru said it was after me.  The three of you should leave.  I don't want you to risk…"

"Shut up, Buff.  We're in this for the long haul," Darla said gruffly but not unkindly.  

"Um, yeah, right," Harmony said with a great deal less certainty as she looked behind them and saw that the flames had closed in on them.   There was no possible escape. 

With a burst of unexpected speed, the fire was suddenly surrounding them.  They had been caught.  What went on within the column of power was beyond anything they could have imagined.  The swirling inferno was like a giant whirlpool, desperately trying to rip Buffy from them and draw her down.  With a mighty heave, all four souls held fast to her, but each one felt as though he or she was being pulled into a thousand directions at once, torn to pieces by ravaging teeth.  Harmony and Darla were thrown from her as the raging winds increased, their futile cries echoing as they were plunged into the darkness alone.  William still clung tightly to Buffy, his face a picture of strain as he battled to remain connected.  They were going to lose, and they both knew it.

Then, it happened.  

A light of cool, blue radiance pierced the flames like a welcome jet of water, and other forms appeared, forms who had come in answer to Drusilla's call.  A hand gripped Buffy's ankle firmly, and she was stunned to see that the fingers belonged to Jenny Calendar.  A firm hold was around the Slayer's knees, and she looked down to see Kendra's long black hair being whipped about in the wind.  Grabbing her from behind was Joyce, pulling with a strength that was more than Buffy herself had possessed in life.  Her arms were held fast by the tiny yet powerful spirit of her cousin Celia.  And, unbelievably, Buffy's hands had been taken by Dr. Gregory, her sophomore year biology teacher.

"Hang on, honey!"  Joyce called through the gale.  

From outside the whirlwind, Drusilla bent all of her concentration on keeping the bridge between Heaven and Limbo open.  Those who had answered her summons were unused to this sort of combat, but they were holding their own.  Harmony and Darla, cast from the battle and unable to enter it again, huddled next to her and looked on with awe at the spectacle before them.  There was a chance.

And then, things began to go horribly wrong.  Willow had sensed the change in the outcome, and she thrust forth a torrent of power so extreme, so total, that her soul all but disappeared.  The flames turned entirely black, and it was as though a starless night had descended upon Limbo.  

"It won't take you," William said in her ear.  "We won't let them."

She turned towards the face of her lover, felt the tendrils of his hair brush her cheek softly, and their lips met.

"Whatever happens, William, it's you I choose," she vowed against his throat.  "I love you."

The wind gave one, last, mighty pull, and there was the sound of a scream, loud and terrified.  The tower of flames receded into nothing, and the world of Limbo reformed.  The spirits of the next realm grouped around the still forms of Buffy and William, but the look on their faces was not one of triumph.  Something was wrong.  They had neither won nor lost.

Drusilla's eyes filled with tears as she realized what had happened, and she felt the arms of Joyce slip around her in comfort.  

"You did the best you could, Drusilla.  We all did.  There's a reason for this, but we don't know what it is yet," she soothed her gently.  "Things aren't as black as they seem.  And Willow has been spared… well, mostly."

By now, William was stirring, and the exhausted soul immediately tried to grip the hand of his beloved, but the chill of her flesh was like the grave.

"What's going on here?"  Darla demanded angrily.  "Is she here or there?"

Drusilla began to cry weakly, spent.  "Don't you see?  She's both.  She's been ripped in two."

William's horrified gaze stared at the figure of the unconscious girl lying beside him.  "What does that mean?"

"Buffy will wake, in her coffin, but she won't be entirely her.  Enough of her will be there that she'll be able to function, but it will be like she's half dead.  And the Buffy here," Drusilla touched William's shoulder softly, "you know there shouldn't be any such thing as pain in Limbo. Because of that, this part of her will remain in a deep sleep.  Otherwise, she'd be like her other self is going to be:  confused and hopeless.  William, I'm so sorry."

"For how long?" he asked almost violently.  "How long will she be split?"

Drusilla knelt next to him and held his hand, "Until the other Buffy dies.  Until that time, because she bound herself to you, this part of her will remain with you, but when her human life ends, all of her will be called to the next level."

"She'll never see me again," he realized.  "She won't remember this place and what we've shared.  All she'll have is the memory of being buried alive.  Oh, God, I've lost her." 

William's eyes brimmed over with tears as he dragged the motionless form of his love into his arms, cradling her head to his heart.  He ran a reverent hand over her pale cheek and placed a single gentle kiss against her still lips before he threw back his head and keened his grief to the vault of the sky.


	20. Chapter 20

Author:  Meltha

Rating: PG-13, though very, very mild 

Feedback:  Yes, thank you. Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  Through Angel season 4's "Lullaby" and Buffy season 6's "Tabula Rasa"

Distribution: Fanfiction.net and the Bunny Warren.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  Buffy jumped through the portal and died, but what happened next?

Author's Note:  Okay, I know I said this was going to be the last chapter.  Well, it looks like it's going to be the second to last.  

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Part 20 

Darla looked at the world around her and saw that it had begun to heal.  The sky had turned from a livid orange back to blue, and she experimentally drew them once more to the beach.  No sooner had she thought it than it came into being.  Limbo was whole again, but its inhabitants were far from well.

The spirits who had been summoned to help had vanished only moments after William had regained consciousness, and it was perfectly obviously why.  They were residents of a realm of pure bliss, and it was impossible for them to stay somewhere so filled with sadness for very long.  The waves lapped sadly against the crystal sand, and the melancholy calls of seagulls echoed above them.  Drusilla had wrapped her arms around the nearly unconscious William, but he seemed not to notice.  For almost two hours, his eyes had never left the unmoving features of Buffy.  The stillness was complete.

"I think Willow's a big meanie," Harmony suddenly blurted out.  

For once, Darla was grateful for the girl.  The quiet had been getting to her.

Drusilla stood up and went to her.  "She didn't understand, dearie.  I don't think she would ever have done what she did if she knew what the consequences would be."

Darla snorted in a completely unhumorous laugh.  "If she didn't understand it, she shouldn't have done it."

The seer looked at her wearily and tipped her head in recognition that the girl so known for research should have known enough to study the spell more throughly.  She sincerely hoped Willow wouldn't slip any further, but her Sight told her there was more darkness ahead.

Through all of this, William remained crouched on the sand beside Buffy, appearing to not even hear what they were saying.  His mind was a thousand miles away, remembering the soft scent of plum blossoms and the gentle touch of her hand in his.  Tears flowed down his cheeks unheeded, one landing softly on Buffy's face and shimmering like a diamond in the sunlight.

It was then that the world went sideways.  Darla had completely lost it after she'd called his name no less than ten times without a response and had given him a good sock to the jaw in an effort to get him to pay attention.

"Are you in there?" she yelled as she pulled him to his feet.  "I can't believe we're such idiots!"

Drusilla frowned at her severely. "Do not deal with him in such a way again, Darla, or I will be extremely cross," she warned.

"Oh, for crying out loud, think about it!  We know the other half of her is waking up, actually, probably has woken up by now.  We know she's going to be completely out of it, and we're all standing her like a pack of ninnies!  William, get down there and do something with Spike to help her!" she half-screamed in frustration.

His eyes blinked in shock.  She was absolutely right.  He'd been sitting up here wallowing in sorrow when there was a possiblity the bond he shared with Spike was strong enough to let him effect her first few hours in what must seem like hell to her.

"Dru, look after her for me, will you?" he asked quickly as he bent his thoughts on finding his other self.  

"Of course," was the immediate reply, and the words were no sooner said than he was gone.

It took a moment for William to find Spike, and the reason was perfectly understandable:  the vampire was ripping through the streets of Sunnydale, going over ninety miles per hour on a motorcycle.  Fortunately, the emotions Spike was experiencing made it fairly easy for William to tentatively begin to re-establish a connection.  The demon was in there too, very strong, no doubt of that, and it was enraged over the loss of something.  It took William a few moments to figure out that the grisly images in Spike's head of Buffy being torn into pieces were actually centered around the Buffybot, not the human, and he sighed in relief that he wasn't too late.  But the other part of Spike, that part of William's soul that had begun to steadily grow stronger on a diet of positive actions and feelings, was very much at the forefront.  Dawn was missing, and Spike was half wild with worry that the oath he'd made to the Slayer on the day she died might have been broken.

Together, whether the vampire knew it or not, they tore into the Summers home and called the girl's name.

"Dawn!  You in here!"

There was a pause before she answered, "I'm here."

William felt the wave of genuine relief spread over Spike.  His concern for her was very real, which meant William had a much better chance of influencing him.

He barely heard Dawn as she descended the stairs, but he felt Buffy's presense before Spike saw her.  But what he perceived chilled him.

She looked exactly the same to the others in the room, but to him, she was so frail.  It was as though the bright light that had always poured forth from her was shining underneath many, many layers of smoked glass.  But she was there, moving, unlike her other half in Limbo.  

The surge of tenderness and wonder that shot through Spike was so strong that William was able to enter him almost completely, and when her bleeding hands were held, it was by both of them.  The love that shone through the blue eyes she saw was almost overwhelming as both demon and soul relished being in her presense again.  By the time the other Scoobies arrived, William began to have hopes that the chip had weakened the demon enough and the vampire's increasing ability to love and feel guilt had strengthened his remnants of a soul enough that William might not be completely separated from Buffy forever.

As the two of them wept in unison by the tree outside her house, both of them knowing that something was wrong, Xander Harris approached, and William experienced a very strong feeling.

Rage.  And it wasn't just the demon's.  This boy had been there and allowed his beloved to be taken from him.  This ignorant pup had played with far more than fire, and now whole worlds were out of alignment for it.

"Look me in the eyes, and tell me when you saw Buffy alive, that wasn't the happiest moment of your entire existence." 

William nearly screamed at the stupidity of the statement from his point of view, but he knew Spike was dangerously close to snapping.  With a tremendous urge, he suggested that leaving would be a good idea.

"That's the thing about magic.  There's always consequences.  Always," they both called over the leather-clad shoulder.  

As Spike's motorcycle rocketed back through the night, trying vainly to escape the confusion of emotions in a cloud of dust, William retreated.  Just before he left, he took another long look at Spike.  There was no question about it.  The soul within him was growing larger.  He had a chance.

William arrived back in Limbo to see Drusilla still standing over Buffy's body protectively, a sad smile on her face.

"Looks as though she's sleeping, doesn't she?"  she said softly.  "This part of her, in spite of everything, is still untouched."

"How'd it go?" Harmony asked in  an uncharacteristically serious tone.  "Is she okay?"

William sighed.  "She's physically well, that much I can say.  Her spirit is badly damaged, though.  Very badly."

"And you?  You okay?" she asked with a sympathetic smile.

He sat beside her on the sand and gave her hand a squeeze.  "I have to be, for her.  Spike's letting me in a bit more than usual.  As long as he still has hope, I think I'm going to be able to make some sort of difference."

"Would you like an ice cream bar or something?"  Harmony suggested in a squeaky voice.  "They usually make me feel better."

William smiled in spite of himself.  "Not right now, Harmony, dear.  Perhaps later."

"'Kay.  I think I'm gonna grab one, though, if you don't mind.  I'll see you guys later."  Harmony vanished without a trace, the lack of happy green and pink bubbles testifying to her sadness.

Through all of this, Darla had been pitching stones into the ocean, hovering on the outside of the group.  At this point, she took a deep breath and rejoined them, uncomfortably kicking the sand up in little puffs as she stood there.

"Um, William," she began, "about that right cross I decked you with…"

"Thank you," he interupted.  "You were quite right.  Perhaps the method was a little questionable, but your heart was, as it usually is, in the right place."

She gave him a small smile of thanks, and then her gaze fell on Buffy again.  "What should we do about her?"

"You know," Drusilla said softly, "she's quite safe here.  You really don't need to worry about her."

"I just don't like the idea of leaving her alone if I can help it," he explained.  "It doesn't really make sense; you're perfectly right, Dru.  Nothing will harm her.  But still, I don't want her to be abandoned."

Drusilla smiled in understanding.  

William had a sudden thought and knealt beside Buffy, carefully sweeping her into his arms as he did so.  Such a small thing to have so much importance to so many people, he thought.  Instantly, he was alone with Buffy in the plum orchard where she had told him that she wanted to remain with him.  He walked along the pathway under the shade of the trees, holding her lax form tenderly and letting the memories wash over him.  At last he turned from the path and entered the grove where their bed lay.  He held her for one more moment, then gently rested her on the coverlet, her golden hair carefully arranged on the pillow.  She looked for all the world like Sleeping Beauty.

"If only a kiss would wake you up," he whispered sadly as he ran a finger softly across her cheek.  He placed his lips to her forehead, then left, intent on helping the half of her he could, but knowing that there would be many, many hours he would spend in this bower, silently watching over her.

Time passed, and there were moments when Spike and William were so closely bonded that they were nearly one entity.  Buffy began to go to Spike more and more often to find solace for the sadness that was engulfing her, never realizing why she was so drawn to him, never knowing that her soul was naturally seeking out William and the bond they shared, never realizing he was there.  The soul knew she had no choice in the matter of forgetting him, but it didn't stop him from being reminded of how alone he was, how deeply he missed her.  To her, he simply didn't exist, but when Spike's mouth formed the words of how much he wished he could have saved her, how he replayed that horrible scene a thousand times, though the scenes themselves were different, William expressed his own sadness and grief at his inability to save her.  

Darla, on the other hand, had more than a few problems of her own to deal with.  She hadn't been back to check in with her vampire self in a while, the whole experience sometimes becoming too difficult for her since she so rarely had any input at all in what happened.  Instead, she'd been trying to help Dru or Harmony with their own doubles, and occasionally that had worked.  The other Drusilla, after some nudging from Miss Edith and company, was currently wandering through the rainforests of Venezuela, a part of the world where she happily ran into humans infrequently and was instead living off of a variety of wildlife.  She seemed to particularly enjoy parrots, often mumbling about drinking flying rainbows.  Harmony's other self was living in Mexico at the moment, trying to sell vampires on some cracked pyramid-scheme that none of them completely understood.  So, when Darla did decide to drop in on her demon after a few months, she was, to put it mildly, surprised.

"And just how exactly did I get pregnant?" the blonde asked in complete disbelief.

"Um, well, you see, a few months ago, you and Angel sort of…" Harmony began in an embarassed voice accompanied by frantic hand motions that could easily have suggested they had been making patty cake as much as anything else.

"Oh, for crying out loud, I know how that part works!  I used to be a prostitute!"  Darla interrupted her.  "The other me is dead!  And even if it weren't, when I was human, I had a bad case of measles when I was a kid and it left me sterile, which worked out pretty well with my old line of work.  And the other me is… well… dead!" she repeated firmly.

Drusilla cocked her head to one side and stared at the vampire who was obviously in the family way.  "This really is disturbing."

William, completely flummoxed at the news, had responded by ducking his head repeatedly as he'd tried to form a coherent sentence.  "I mean,… that is to say…  well, is there any chance that… um… yes, well, it's all rather… ehm… yes.  Perhaps I should call on Buffy," he eventually got out as he abruptly vanished.

The three women exchanged looks.  

"Okay, who here knew he could turn that red?" Darla asked in amusement.  "It's almost worth seeing my body get stretchmarks.  Almost."

Dru enjoyed the laughter for a moment before she lapsed back into the worried expression that had been clouding her eyes more and more lately.  Her Sight had been telling her for some time that all was not going well, that bad times were coming, but exactly what was going to happen was shrouded from her.  Her first concern had been Buffy, of course, and there was indeed reason for concern about the mortal part of her.  As time had gone on, Buffy's spirit seemed to be… well, decaying was perhaps the kindest word she could use.  It was almost as though her soul, which somehow had held on to the idea that it had been warm and safe and loved wherever it might have been, although all the details and many of the facts were completely wrong, had grown sullen.  It was simply too injured to deal with the pressures of the life it was facing.

"Thinking about Buffy again?" Darla said, not really needing an answer.  "What's up with her, anyway?  She's getting…"

"Worse, yes, I know," Dru responded tiredly.  "William is doing all he can, but her soul is so wounded, and her situation isn't helping.  Her mother is dead, her father has no thoughts of her at all, she's drowning in bills, her friends don't wish to address what has happened directly, her job as the Slayer is becoming meaningless to her since the monsters never do stop coming, her sister doesn't seem to understand the position she's in, and the only time she feels any comfort is when she's with Spike and she can't understand why.  The girl has not had an easy time of it.  I'm afraid the strain is about to break her, especially since I believe Giles is considering leaving once more."

Darla gave her a significant look.  "That's not good.  He's the anchor in that group.  Dru… worst case scenario?"

Drusilla plopped down next to Harmony and began drawing circles in the sand with her fingertip.  "Absolute worst?  Her soul could become completely dormant, almost like it's gone into shock.  She'd turn into a very close copy of our own other selves, except she might actually be worse.  At least vampires do have a tiny bit of soul in them that is awake."

"So, if her soul goes completely to sleep?" Harmony asked.

"No conscience at all.  No ability to love.  No appreciation for anything around her;  beauty, friendship, and honor will become meaningless words.  She could become a walking thing, and she may even become dangerous," Dru said in a saddened tone.  "In fact, she most probably would."

"Damn," Darla cursed.  "So how do we get her to hang on?"

"We don't.  William does," Dru said.  "As long as he still has a pathway in through Spike, he may be able to keep her from falling apart.  But even so, we are in uncharted waters.  I've never heard of a soul ripped in two before.  Neither has anyone else here.  I don't know if there's really anything to be done about it."

The three of them remained on the beach for a long time, staring at the unmoving sun that was perched just above the horizon.  Drusilla could feel the darkness lying behind it, bleeding across the sand like an oil slick, almost reaching their feet.  They were poised at the brink of something, of that she was sure, but would they topple in or be pulled back from the edge?  Sometimes she couldn't help wondering if her mother hadn't been right, if she had been cursed.

William arrived again abruptly, a strange look on his face.

"Hey," Harmony called perkily, completely off-setting her mood of a few moments earlier.  "What's going on down there?"

William frowned, then stammered, "S-s-she kissed me.  Him.  Us."

"Well, it's about time!" Darla said firmly and with a grin.  "See, nothing to worry about!  Good going, Will!"

"No, you don't understand.  There's something wrong." He shook his head as though trying to clear it.  "It wasn't right.  I've kissed Buffy, and I know what it should feel like.  This was… there was no love in it from her, only desperation, and what's worse, I think Spike felt it.  He's gotten what he's been wanting from her for months, what he's been dreaming of for years, and he knows it was hollow."

Darla's mouth hung open slightly as she remembered a moment from her mortal life. A man whom she had taken a strong fancy to had hired her for her services, and from that moment on she had known he would never love her.  It had been horrible:  exactly what she'd asked for, only with nothing behind it.  

"He's going to lose heart, William, if things go too far, and you're going to have a hell of a time breaking through if he does.  You have to keep him from giving up."  She took his hand firmly in her own and held it tightly. "This is going to get rough."

Only days passed before Darla's words became all too clear.  Giles did, indeed, leave, and it seemed as though no sooner did the man who had been her father figure for so many years step on the plane than Buffy's light was barely a flicker.  It was one blow too many.  

A week after Buffy and Spike's second kiss, one that predicted even worse luck than the first, Drusilla was walking in her rose garden.  As she sat on her favorite bench and breathed in the scents of the flowers, willing herself to find peace, a vision hit her with complete clarity.  There was no question about its interpretation.  In a moment, she had rejoined the others, who were currently in William's study.  It happened to be daylight for all of their other selves, and they were gathered together in a rare moment of rest.

Drusilla immediately crouched beside Darla's chair and took the other woman's hand.

"Darla," she said with tears in her eyes, "you're going home soon."

"What?  You mean…" Darla asked in shock.  "It's the baby, isn't it?"

Drusilla nodded.  "It's going to be tonight."

Everyone's eyes immediately went to the stunned woman.  

"Are you alright, Darla," William asked carefully as he moved immediately to her other side.  

Her mouth worked noiselessly for a few moments.  "Now?  I mean, don't get me wrong here, I'm completely happy to leave behind the full-body migraines from feeding, and I want to go.  It's going to be a lot better this time.  But it's not exactly the best time to be leaving you guys."

Drusilla squeezed her hand more tightly for a moment.  "When it comes, it's the right time, dearheart.  I am going to miss you terribly, though."

No one else knew what to say.  They spent the rest of the day together in Darla's valley of wildflowers, simply being together.  As night fell over the city of Los Angeles, a feeling of urgency became stronger in the group.  Even without Drusilla's vision, they all would have known something was going to happen.

"It's going to be soon," the fair-haired woman said with an unmistakable note of nervousness.  "Um, Harmony?  Look, in spite of everything, you're actually a pretty decent kid.  I've liked knowing you."

"Aw, Dar," Harmony said as she began to tear up and threw her arms around her, "that's so nice!  I'm gonna miss you too.  And you have great taste in clothes, even though you are a little skanky sometimes."

Darla's eyebrow went up at the odd mixture of compliment and insult, but she just shook her head and patted the girl on the back, smiling in spite of herself.  She turned next to Drusilla.

"You'll get out of here sooner or later, Dru, and when you do, well, I'll probably be a lot happier.  You're a decent sort.  Wish I'd met a few more like you back when I still had a pulse.  Either time."

The two hugged hard for a long minute before Dru kissed her on the forehead and stepped back.

"Look at me.  Crying like a silly cow," Dru said self-mockingly.  "You'll give my sisters my love, won't you?"

"Of course," she promised as she faced William.  "Now, you.  I'm going to admit something to you.  The first time I met you, I thought you were the biggest wimp I'd ever met."

William brow creased at her words.

"I was wrong.  You, William, are one of only five people I have ever particularly liked.  Considering I've been around almost 400 years, that's saying something.  Whatever it is you've got in front of you, you'll get through it."

"Five?"  Harmony asked.  

"Yes, Harmony, five," Drusilla said with a bittersweet smile.  "And Darla, you know eventually he is going to catch up to you someday."

In spite of herself, Darla gave an almost shy grin as she remembered a pair of kind brown eyes.  

Then, without another word or warning, Darla was simply gone.  It wasn't to be long before the others realized how well-timed her departure was.


	21. Chapter 21

Author:  Meltha

Rating: PG-13, though very, very mild 

Feedback:  Yes, thank you. Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  Through Season 6's finale, "Grave"

Distribution: Fanfiction.net, the Bunny Warren, Fonts of Wisdom, and Sudden Shifts.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  Buffy jumped through the portal and died, but what happened next?  The final chapter.

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you. Dedication:  To the all the lovely people who have sent me feedback, to everyone who has waited for the chapters, and especially to those beautiful people, the Snert Slayers. Part 21 

Drusilla had smiled and wished Darla well, knowing the spirit was going on to perfect bliss and wanting to lessen her worry over her departure, but after her old friend was gone, she couldn't help her sadness.  For once, she allowed herself the indulgence of being every bit as unhappy as she actually felt, and she remained sequestered inside her garden for two full days in solitude.  William had, of course, wanted to stay with her, but she had very politely but firmly stated that she wanted to be alone.  He also missed the sometimes sharp-tongued woman whose candor had been so refreshing, so it was with a heavy heart of his own that he went to Sunnydale to see how things were faring with Spike.

Buffy had told the vampire that the kiss would never be repeated, but William had begun to doubt her words.  Uneasiness festered around his heart as he watched Spike in his crypt, an expression on the demon's face that suggested he knew things were not going to turn out well but that there was little hope for anything else.  Spike was many things, but stupid was certainly not one of them.  

It was the shove that did it, both physically and mentally.  William was stunned beyond belief at exactly how little Buffy was behaving like her former self.  Granted, she'd always beaten up Spike for information, but he did have a point in this instance.  Something was happening between them, and they needed to talk about it before things went out of hand, an idea that was at least half William's.  But when the vampire had tried to return the push and succeeded without feeling any pain, William's face went ashen.

The chip was dead.

A thousand thoughts came crashing around his head as he tried to understand what had happened.  Had there been some strange side effect from Willow's amnesia spell that had lulled the gizmo into silence, or perhaps the contraption had simply run down on its own?  Spike seemed almost as puzzled as William was.  Whatever the case, if the chip was gone completely, the soul's chances of interfering with the vampire's choices were much, much slimmer.  Unmuzzled at last, the demon howled in delight at being free again, but William pulled with as much power as he possessed to reign in the destruction it wanted to cause.  There were still thoughts in the back of Spike's brain, feelings that suggested he didn't want to be what he had once been, and William used them as much to his advantage as he could.

Spike's first hunt in two years was a battle between the two of them.  Instead of simply cornering the woman and immediately killing her, he was suffering his first true pangs of conscience in a century.  William concentrated all of his effort on swaying Spike, the attempt draining his energy severely.  At length, the soul felt he would have won a complete victory had it not been that the vampire was so entirely sure that there was no possibility for him to ever fit in anywhere again.  As it was, William was reasonably certain in the moment before Spike's fangs grazed the woman's neck that he wouldn't leave her dead.  But then it happened -- mind-numbing pain that shocked both of them.

"I don't understand," William mumbled through his exhaustion.  The fight had sapped his strength mightily, and he was fighting to remain conscious.  

Then, a horrible thought grew in his mind.  It wasn't the chip; it was Buffy.  Her soul had eroded so far that she wasn't even being read by the chip as human anymore.  Of all the people in the world that Spike could hurt, the one person the idiotic piece of metal had decided to ignore was William's beloved.  When Warren confirmed this for Spike, William shuddered and tried with all his strength to hold back the tide he knew was coming, but it was like trying to put out an inferno with a glass of water.  There was no way he could stop it.

When the confrontation occurred, William was there.  He saw the fight, heard the cruel words they hurled at one another, saw the house collapsing around them.  His influence had dwindled away to almost nothing.  It was the demon who lay with Buffy that night, and it was the soul who stood above them in the dust of the destruction, too stunned to move, too horrified to turn his eyes away from the scene, too much in pain to even cry out.  He had been Buffy's lover, and he knew perfectly well what was happening below him had nothing to do with love for her.  There was no tenderness, only a strange, self-destructive violence.

With a heavy heart, William left.  Strong as the spirit had been throughout the loss of her, he couldn't bear the thought of watching her wake up in the arms of his demon.  It would be a pale mockery of their own love, a love she couldn't even remember now.  He didn't blame her for that, of course, but it didn't make the agony any less for him.

It was well past noon on the next day when Drusilla found him in his study, the sunlight looking pale and sickly as it slanted through the large window.  He had no reaction to seeing her standing there and remained staring out at the moors beyond, his figure preternaturally still.

A glance told Drusilla everything.

"So, it's happened, then," she said.  It wasn't a question.

A dim nod was William's only reply as he continued staring at the tall, gray grass waving in a strong wind that had begun to pick up.  The sky was growing darker, and the air took on the quality of a brewing thunderstorm.

"And Buffy?" she asked, afraid of the question.

"Almost no light left at all, the last time I saw her," he answered in a deceptively even tone.  "Dru, I'm tired.  I miss her."

"Yes," she agreed softly.  "Yes, I know."

A few moments later, the two were sitting on the couch, his head resting on the curve of her shoulder as she gently stroked his back.  There were no tears from either of them, just silence.  Outside, the storm began to wail.

It was to be several days before William regained enough strength in any sense of the word to return to Sunnydale.  What he saw did not encourage him.  Buffy had simply given up, and Spike, though unwilling to admit it, was doing much the same.  The vampire's one and only dim hope was that she might grow so weary of life that she would willing join him in the darkness, an idea he put forward time and again, though in truth Spike knew that if she became part of the shadows she would no longer be the woman he loved.  As little as William liked his other self, he couldn't help commiserating a bit with him on that point:  the woman they both loved certainly seemed to have disappeared without a trace, and the listless, often pointlessly cruel girl who had taken her place was sometimes nothing but a stinging reminder of their losses.

There were still occasional moments when William was able, through sheer determination, to break through Spike's defenses, but they were problematic at best.  The crowning blow that had put up the final barricades between the two and made William's interferences almost entirely impossible had been the incident with Katrina.  Being outside of the time loop and perfectly able to see that "Katrina" was no more than Jonathon in a skirt with a glamour floating around him, William obviously knew Buffy was in no way responsible for her death.  Upon learning that Buffy had decided to turn herself in to the police, a decision that didn't make any sense on a logical level and would almost certainly destroy what was left of Buffy's spirit inside a cell, he had exercised as much influence as he could over Spike to tell him that he needed to stop her.  Throwing the body in the river had shocked him, but if Spike had not shown up at that moment outside the police station, Buffy would have walked in too early to learn the identity of the girl and put two and two together.

As it was, she was otherwise occupied for a good while.  As Spike was slowly pummeled, unresisting, into the ground, his face reduced to a pulp of blood and shattered bone, an unspeakably moment happened for William.  His own soul was in such distress that Drusilla heard its call and was instantaneously by his side.

"It's gone," he realized as he looked at Buffy again.  "Dru, it's gone."

In that darkened alleyway, Buffy's dim soul was guttering like a candle flame in a draft.  As she continued to beat the unmoving body beneath her, her soul flickered, then went out.

Drusilla's eyes widened enormously.  "No.  No, this isn't happening.  We won't allow this to happen."

Instinctively, she grabbed William's hand and gave every last ounce of her strength towards concentrating on reigniting that spark, guiding William to do the same.  Time seemed to possess no meaning at all, and it felt as though hours passed before Buffy walked dazedly out of the alleyway.  Still, they had managed to succeed.  Fluttering weakly around the Slayer's heart like the smallest, almost invisible spark was the fragment of soul they had managed to rekindle.

Spike was not the only being to lie broken on the filthy ground of the alleyway.  Both William and Drusilla, utterly spent, had collapsed senseless to the pavement, completely insensible to the world around them.  It was several hours later before William, the first one to stir, was able to send himself and Dru home again to fully recover, and as the soiled brick walls faded away, he saw the vampire slink painfully on his belly towards a manhole cover, just escaping the first deadly rays of the sun. 

Days passed in Drusilla's garden without a word from either of them.  Harmony occasionally stopped by, having heard the gossip about what had happened, but nothing she could say or do would help them to mend any faster.  

"This is so not good and depressing and stuff," she complained loudly as she watched the limp bodies of the two in their hammocks, their eyes glazed.  "It's, like, scary."

Deciding she'd done enough, the girl popped into a different reality and proceeded to have a pedicure and watch _Pretty Woman_ six times on a loop until she felt better.

It was well over a month before Drusilla and William recovered.  Checking Sunnydale after being away for so long was a sobering experience as they realized Xander and Anya's wedding had flopped and the woman had decided to become a demon again.  Worse yet, though, were Drusilla's latest portents, most of which surrounded Willow.  Although the redhead seemed under control, something was not right with her, and the seer felt in her heart that it was going to get worse.

To William's surprise, Buffy had ended things with Spike, and this time it looked like she might mean it.  While Buffy's soul seemed to be strengthening a bit in the absence of the constant violence, the effect on Spike seemed to be a strange loss of stability.  William was floored when he walked in on the vampire and Anya, and perhaps even more so when Spike outed his relationship with Buffy in front of the others.  It smacked of desperation, and desperation and demons did not mix well.

Nothing, though, could have prepared him for what happened next.  

Dawn's suggestion that Spike speak with her sister had been well intentioned.  The conversation had even begun well enough, with Buffy at least not denying what had happened between them.  But the snap, the sudden, complete break when Spike realized that she would never tell him she loved him, that she had never loved him, that the only thing he had been to her was something, not someone, to have sex with, was uncontrollable.  In that moment, that dawning of realization, the demon took total control.  

William fought with it, of course.  He pulled every mental string he could think of, tried every trick of control he had ever learned, but his own revulsion over the attack that was happening before him was so great that he could do nothing, no more than Darla could usually control her other self when she had been split.  In the end, it was Buffy who saved herself.

But William did not back away.

Fury coursed through the soul's veins as he saw the tiniest of windows open in Spike, a small part of him that was feeling guilt.  That, the soul could use.  Anger unlike anything he had ever felt spurred him on, lashing the vampire with a force like tidal waves.

"You piece of scum!" he yelled with every fiber of his being.  "You worthless excuse for a being!  You dared to even think of touching her that way?  Her?  You don't have the right to have her see you, hear you, know you exist!  Murderer!  Demon!"

Spike was reeling from the onslaught:  a demon experiencing guilt, an utter anomaly.  He had no more idea what to do with it than he would have known how to live on Mars.  

Meanwhile, William's rage had grown no less, but it had grown deadly calm.  He didn't care if it was impossible.  There was no way he would ever allow that thing to be near her again, and that meant one of two things.

"Dru," he said in a perfectly controlled voice as he materialized at her side, "is there a way to kill him?"

"William," she said as his memories of what had happened were opened before her like a book, "oh, William, I'm so sorry.  But there's…"

"Don't tell me there's nothing I can do!" he erupted loudly.  "There must be a way!"

Drusilla shook her head firmly.  "No.  There's no way to kill him."

"Then I'll bombard him with guilt until he does it himself," he vowed quietly.  

"It won't work," she said softly.  "The guilt is there now, yes, but to move him to suicide?  I think he'll shut down again before it becomes that much.  He's done it in the past."

"Wait?  Spike's, like, feeling guilty?" Harmony asked from behind him where she had gone unnoticed until now.

"Harmony, now is not the time," William began impatiently, but she interrupted him.  

"But, that means he's feeling a negative emotion from his conscience," she reasoned.  "It's in there, or it's waking up, or whatever."

"What?"  William asked, startled.

"And it's his emotion, right?  I mean, you didn't try to hurt Buffy.  You don't feel guilty, do you?"

"No.  Angry, yes, but not guilty," he said, wondering where this was going.

"Well, this new guy, Kwami, was just turned in Africa.  We were talking, and he used to live in this village called Ramkana that worshiped some big demon mojo guy who could anchor souls, but only if the recipient and the soul were both okay with it," Harmony said in a rush.  "Doesn't exactly happen too often.  Like, once."

William's eyes shifted to Drusilla.  "Have you ever heard of this?"

"No," Dru said in surprise.  "Harmony, are you quite sure that's what he said?"

The blonde nodded her head vigorously.  "Well, that and that the one soul who tried it actually wound up breaking apart into little pieces and ceasing to exist because he didn't pass the final exam or something."

"So it's never been done successfully?"  Drusilla asked.  "William, you'd better think about this before you do anything…"

He was gone.

"Rash," she finished to the empty air.

William was already in Spike's crypt, and with the level of interdimensional assault the vampire received, he was very quickly on his motorcycle and on his way to a village in Africa that he'd never even heard of before.  He would do anything, anything, if it meant he could simply get away from the terrible weight of grief that hung around his heart like lead.

As William stood by while Spike fought the necessary battles with the demon, continuing to batter him ceaselessly with rage, Drusilla suddenly appeared, begging the soul to reconsider and stop for a moment to think about what he was doing.  

"William, she was able to stop the attack.  If he ever tried to do anything like that again…"

"No.  The idea that it's even possible that he might, it's too terrible.  I love that woman more than anything in this universe, Dru, and I'm not going to let something that looks like me, sounds like me, and used to be me ever have the opportunity to hurt her again, not when there's even the slightest chance I can stop him."

"But what will happen to you?" she asked worriedly.  "You know you won't remember Limbo.  You'll wake up with nothing but Spike's memories.  The price of succeeding, if you even do, is going to be taking every crime he ever committed upon yourself.  You'll still be you, but this time, you'll remember it as though you were the one trying to rape her!"

William paused for the briefest moment, then a determined glint set in his eye.  "If it's the difference between me having to go through hell or her being attacked again, I'll take hell.  Gladly."

Suddenly, Drusilla's form shimmered slightly, and as Spike slumped to the cave's floor, having passed the final test, a second Drusilla faded into being before William.  Everything else stopped as time came to a complete standstill.

"William," the second Drusilla intoned softly, "that isn't me."

Confused, he turned his gaze back to the first Drusilla, peering at her closely.  Her form rippled slightly, changing into something else entirely, becoming a twin to the strange demon who lived in the cave.

"Congratulations," it said in a croaking voice.  "You have passed the test.  You still wish to re-enter this being?  Once said, there can be no turning back."

He looked at Drusilla, and a sad smile lit his eyes.  "Tell Harmony thank you for me, will you?  I'm going to miss you, old friend."

"And I you," she said in a trembling voice, "though I'll never be far."

She kissed his forehead gently, then he turned back to the demon.

"Yes, I am certain."

It nodded, then walked over to its duplicate and merged into one with it.  

"Very well," it quietly purred as it laid a hand against Spike's chest.  "We return to you your soul."

As the bright light that was William flooded back into Spike's body, accompanied by screams of agony, Drusilla couldn't hold back a sob as she saw her dearest friend leave her for good, not for a realm of happiness but for untold years of guilt and shame that he had done nothing to earn.

"Dru, we've got a problem," said a terrified voice next to her ear.  "I think I messed up.  Bad."

Harmony's fear was so great that Drusilla was pulled with her to the Buffy's bower in the plum orchard.  The bed on which the unmoving form of the Slayer usually lay was completely empty.

"She disappeared," Harmony said in quavering voice.  "I was just here, checking up on her like I though William might want, and just, poof, she vanished."

Drusilla stared at the vacant spot for a full minute before she realized what had happened.

"You didn't do anything wrong," she said, and Harmony was stunned to see that Drusilla was smiling broadly.  "You did nothing wrong at all!  Something finally went right!"

"Huh?"

"Buffy's soul.  It was bound to William.  Don't you see!  When William left, Buffy's soul went with it," she called happily.  "I'll show you!"

The two souls were suddenly in a newly dug grave in one of Sunnydale's highly populated cemeteries.  With tremendous joy, Drusilla took in the sight of Buffy and Dawn scrambling up the side of wall of earth, both of them…

"Whole," Drusilla breathed softly.  "Once William left Limbo, her soul was released, so it went back where it belonged.  Harmony, she's healed!"

As the once again complete soul of the Slayer walked through the early morning light with her sister, as the lasting effects of Willow's spell subsided now that the damage had been undone and the witch was able to be herself once more, as Spike, now inhabited by William, began to stir in the African cave, Drusilla caught Harmony's hands and began to dance in a joyous ring with her as the world began its slow journey back to the way things should be.  The way promised to be dark, and what little Drusilla's Sight could foresee of all this said that the coming times would not be easy, but one thing was certain.  Hope had been reborn.

"So," Harmony asked conversationally, "celebration chocolate sundaes?"

Drusilla laughed whole-heartedly for the first time in a very long time.  "Yes, dearie, I believe so.  With marshmallow fluff and sprinkles."

As Limbo closed around Drusilla and Harmony once again, the sun rose on a world full of endless possibilities.


End file.
